Comments?
this is fun. here is another piece ive been working on that i have become increasingly fond of. comments if you read it would be great. thanks!
(no title but we'll go with "Blue")
Blue
The sun hasn’t moved. I have been lying here on my back watching it, patiently. It hasn’t moved an inch. At least, not in the last hour. Or maybe it’s only been a few minutes. I think it’s stuck in all of the blue. The sky has hardened and is framing the sun, leaving it there forever, like me. Stranded.
There is nothing everywhere. Nothing but space. Water. Air. I look up to see a clear blue sky and look down to see clear blue water who reminds me of the sky above. I look for companions. A whale, maybe Jonah’s particularly benevolent whale. Or a dolphin. A saint, or a sign that this is not the rest of my life. I saw all three in a cloud once. But, since the sky has hardened there has been no room for anymore clouds.
The world has stopped moving. It’s as if this is where I am to stay for the rest of my life. If only I had known this beforehand I might have come better equipped. I would have taken along a blanket, a hat, even a bible. However, all that I have left are my ears; who hear nothing but the wind and water, my mouth that can taste nothing but salt and the skin of my lips, my hands, that feel nothing but the sky when I reach up and cry out to whoever can hear me, and my eyes that only see blue. Blue sky. Blue water. Blue fucking raft. Blue wind.
Nothing has stopped the wind. In fact, wind is the only thing I’ve got. I know there is wind because we bob. The raft and I, that is. We bob all day. The raft and I are validated by our bob. Had we not been here who’s the say the wind still exists in the middle of nowhere. Same concept as the falling tree in the woods. When we bob we make ripples. There is no structure to the ripples. They go all over. North, East, South and West. However I don’t know where these North’s and South’s are because the sun is stuck in the hardened sky. The selfish sky that refuses to let go.
I tried to scream for help. I screamed until my throat stopped providing sound. The wind carried my scream like cargo over the ripples but there was no destination. Nowhere to stop. And so my pleas sank to the bottom of all the blue. Somewhere under the water lay a shipwreck of Help me’s! and Somebody’s! My cries are cursed to lay waiting forever with no reply. I know God must hear me when I lie on my back and demand I be taken home. God doesn’t need a scream or a demand. He only needs a special kind of request that seems useless out here. But God is not here. There is no room for the two of us.
The sky begins to loosen and the sun continues its course. It goes on until it to falls below the water. The loss of the sun brings all the black. The water reflects the sky and the millions of stars so that eventually it is as if I am floating through space. No life around me. Nothing but the raft. I float on until my eyes and body give out and I am forced to retreat into my own thoughts. I dream and bob until the sun returns the next morning.
This is out of my hands. I do not paddle. I will wait and see what happens. Until then ill lie and enjoy the silence. Ill bob day and night and listen to the ripples slap the side of my raft with sinister timidity. My eyes will begin to see land. A wavy inviting brown and green among the blue. My ears will begin to hear the voices. The voices of help, the voice of God. My mouth will taste sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy. My hands will begin to feel a foundation, something stable. Today I’ll wait in the blue and race the sun to see who can make it to the bottom of the water first.
(no title but we'll go with "Blue")
Blue
The sun hasn’t moved. I have been lying here on my back watching it, patiently. It hasn’t moved an inch. At least, not in the last hour. Or maybe it’s only been a few minutes. I think it’s stuck in all of the blue. The sky has hardened and is framing the sun, leaving it there forever, like me. Stranded.
There is nothing everywhere. Nothing but space. Water. Air. I look up to see a clear blue sky and look down to see clear blue water who reminds me of the sky above. I look for companions. A whale, maybe Jonah’s particularly benevolent whale. Or a dolphin. A saint, or a sign that this is not the rest of my life. I saw all three in a cloud once. But, since the sky has hardened there has been no room for anymore clouds.
The world has stopped moving. It’s as if this is where I am to stay for the rest of my life. If only I had known this beforehand I might have come better equipped. I would have taken along a blanket, a hat, even a bible. However, all that I have left are my ears; who hear nothing but the wind and water, my mouth that can taste nothing but salt and the skin of my lips, my hands, that feel nothing but the sky when I reach up and cry out to whoever can hear me, and my eyes that only see blue. Blue sky. Blue water. Blue fucking raft. Blue wind.
Nothing has stopped the wind. In fact, wind is the only thing I’ve got. I know there is wind because we bob. The raft and I, that is. We bob all day. The raft and I are validated by our bob. Had we not been here who’s the say the wind still exists in the middle of nowhere. Same concept as the falling tree in the woods. When we bob we make ripples. There is no structure to the ripples. They go all over. North, East, South and West. However I don’t know where these North’s and South’s are because the sun is stuck in the hardened sky. The selfish sky that refuses to let go.
I tried to scream for help. I screamed until my throat stopped providing sound. The wind carried my scream like cargo over the ripples but there was no destination. Nowhere to stop. And so my pleas sank to the bottom of all the blue. Somewhere under the water lay a shipwreck of Help me’s! and Somebody’s! My cries are cursed to lay waiting forever with no reply. I know God must hear me when I lie on my back and demand I be taken home. God doesn’t need a scream or a demand. He only needs a special kind of request that seems useless out here. But God is not here. There is no room for the two of us.
The sky begins to loosen and the sun continues its course. It goes on until it to falls below the water. The loss of the sun brings all the black. The water reflects the sky and the millions of stars so that eventually it is as if I am floating through space. No life around me. Nothing but the raft. I float on until my eyes and body give out and I am forced to retreat into my own thoughts. I dream and bob until the sun returns the next morning.
This is out of my hands. I do not paddle. I will wait and see what happens. Until then ill lie and enjoy the silence. Ill bob day and night and listen to the ripples slap the side of my raft with sinister timidity. My eyes will begin to see land. A wavy inviting brown and green among the blue. My ears will begin to hear the voices. The voices of help, the voice of God. My mouth will taste sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy. My hands will begin to feel a foundation, something stable. Today I’ll wait in the blue and race the sun to see who can make it to the bottom of the water first.