In the Belly of the Whale

darkness, like Jonah held in the belly of the whale, the end of a world; closed-in time in dark spaces - gives one, a hell of a time to think in the belly of the whale grew a whole world, longer than 3 days and 3 nights, the construction took finesse and dare one say, a gauche fearlessness to unravel that ball of light eject it out of her universe like a supernova, like a titian haired prodigy, far from easy, ostentum to accumulate the life of it all extend the regeneration in kind, of a generational call - each time an infant cries, the occupant in an infant is re-borne; they say, it will take 3 days and 3 nights - to destroy it all - the end of an unprepared naive world - who keeps tabs on the betting of it all, the end of a world? there’s always 2 sides to a game - the dimensions, levels all endless, split and perplex; in your arms today, gone tomorrow, the love and the purpose stolen, the end of a world - the cycle sometimes broken - yet the perpetuation of life, for all its worth - continues, light and dark some more light, some more dark, some sit on the fence in the middle, in-between; the end of a world? they say shooting nuclear rockets into the Moon’s shadow could be a valid reason to collect unknown dark matter - dark matter resides in us all - why target the Moon and the Sun, when we have bountiful supplies within us all, human, here in this world? all Jonahs, at some point, we are - inside the belly of the whale the internal infernal wars of us all, perhaps she thinks ... she should cry like Jonah, hmmn, not anymore buster, not anymore she’s had a life time to think on it all, mull it all over - more and more the rise and the fall, but, she doesn’t cry anymore the philosophy the mathematics of the metaphysical revolution takes over - the futile banality of it all; ostentum the occurrences, foreshadowing future events borne from the belly of a whale the ostentum, goes about freely, now watched from afar, by the love of another, uneclipsed, in her own world like a child watched by a loving mother Candide Diderot. ‘24