Spaceship Earth, Calling Astronaunt. Beam me up.

ledworldnuke's picture

(Echo Echo, come on now - electron disfuction. Now. Now. Now. Let's talk about energy, those invisible wavelengths that connect you and I)

I've seen and made love to God.
Felt her in my bones, smiling. Laughing. Screaming.
Making love to me for a thousand hours in a world of light that left me drained and empty. Naked and puzzled as to the meaning of it all. Sitting outside, smoking, the ash in my lungs stinging. She was more beautiful that words can ever hope to describe. Drifting there in her arms, entangled. arm. in. arm. leg to leg, lips locked, breathes held tight (until my lungs threatened to explode - the capillaries popping one by one). Our love gave birth to the universe. I felt her shutter with ecstasy beneath me.
Her Orgasims were like stars dying and exploding (compacting and blinding me as the supernovas washed away the all darkness from the fabrics of space), killing entire fields of the galaxy before giving birth to new stars and new worlds and new life.

I have never in all my years. In all my lives. In all the ageless journeys through these worlds in a thousand bodies and a thousand souls, in all the time staring out from behind blue eyes felt the wonder of it all.

And I am left to descibe to you all in these... fragile words, the touch of endless pleasure.

When I woke, the water of the shower had run cold and was freezing yet my skin steamed from the touch of this God, of this entity of energy who had brushed me as she passed through the quiet universe. Where I had gazed into her eyes, there were now open wounds freely bleeding tears of shame and love. Shattered at her feet by having touched her... having felt her.... having felt all of me within her.... that passion.... that love.... that lust.... that hope....

*******
(Dazzling day - burn bright - shine on empty soul, shine on)

The smashing pumpkins played here in Asheville (NC), at the Orange Peel and I was blessed with tickets to one of their shows. It was a great night filled with wonderful music, love, drugs and alcohol.

Ricky and I made love in the park, just beneath one of the trees. The moon was still wild and high and our bodies were glowing beneath it even at 2 a.m. We were there until we exhausted ourselves and then we journied back to our small apartment and entertained what company we could before passing out.

A night worth memory.

*************
(A few questions to pour over - how many metaphors)

~> Who are YOU

~> What is YOUR purpose?

~> Who do you LOVE

~> What do you FEAR

~> Why?

*********************
(It must be the moon, it must be the moon still angry at the sea)

How many years have we wasted. How much time have we thrown away to drown in our own sorrow listening to the worst music on earth as we drive across a thousand freeways in our little metal cars (blasting it until it deafens our hearing). Writing poems, writing journals, writing whatever about all that will never even matter in five years down the road save for the opportunities we missed. How much of our own sufferering is caused by -ourselves- and how we percieve this -AMAZING- world.

There are men and women dying every moment, every second, with every breath - doing their best to hang on to what binds them to life. They would trade anything to have just a few more hours. They would give their souls to walk out of the nightmares they exist in and YET --- there are so many people (including myself) who -WASTE- their -ENTIRE- youths, screaming for attention over the internet in their homes where it is warm and your every desire is cared for by another human being who slaves themself to put food on the table, to pay for your internet access, for your clothes, for all the things that -kept you alive while you were young-

And what thanks do they get? none.

Thank you Mothers and Fathers. Thank you Grandparents and Guardians. Thank you to EVERY LAST HUMAN BEING WHO HAS HELPED ANOTHER.
You will always be. My Hero.

******

There's a war going on across that wide ocean in a world of sand and I can't help feeling guilty for all those souls that can't watch the sky turn ablaze and shine with light from the gunpowder and fireworks that will wash away the stars on the fourth. My prayers go out to all our troops, all our brave women and men with their uniforms and their guns trying to do whatever it is that our political paradimes are trying to acomplish. Godspeed and good luck.

Comments

wilma wonka's picture

wow

that's really good. Post more stuff like that on oasis.

gay: cheerful and lighthearted; merry." - The American Heritage Dictionary.