The White Noise Bukowski
"The White Noise Bukowski"
Dreams
are playing fields
where scenarios
can be altered
at the whim
of the voyeur.
sometimes
“they” come to you
in dreams
and your time
is manipulated.
“they” reveal
their messages.
soul to soul.
blue avians
like singing
blue birds,
they come anytime,
not just nightly nightingales.
they slip in,
hovering over your
secret time,
singular or plural.
there is always
some ulterior meaning
in the rhyme,
in which they
turn your channel on,
express themselves
to you, Bukowski -
they visit you,
in the white noise.
the blues bring it on.
tall whites whisper
in your glazed glass mind.
visions not nearly clear,
seen for what they
really mean.
levels of descent
are freedom of will.
mistakes and errors
are necessary,
for novitiates
to elevate.
what’s the point
of the make, if not?
shades light and dark
blend complimentary
taken to shape,
the elongated decisions
for you.
you sometimes hesitate,
you sometimes wake,
before the message
comes in clearer to you,
breaks the forward way, for you;
when you’re
the one holding the key
to the gate, in dreams -
'tis your choice
to turn ignition on,
salute ignorance
turn your back
on what was,
take the risk to
dive off boards you
walk daily
in repeating grooves,
change up to 5
targa gears.
transition rough
or smooth;
warp speed
recommended,
for successful
take off.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
gvlm
"Above the vault over their heads
was what looked like a throne of lapis lazuli,
and high above on the throne was a figure
like that of a man.
I saw that from what appeared to be his waist up
he looked like glowing metal, as if full of fire,
and that from there down he looked like fire;
and brilliant light surrounded him.
Like the appearance of a rainbow
in the clouds on a rainy day,
so was the radiance around him."
merkaba.
"Blue Bird", Bukowski.
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