Chasms and Streams

 

 

 

We are a colourful nation full of rainbows, flags and flights of fancy, dreams of Sid and Nancy and whole streets paved in red.

     My last thought bounced off the wall but got lodged in-between someone’s head and the moon, these paradigms are crowded and it can’t come too soon, so I breathe and berate myself a little while longer chanting Ohm.

   Since when did we lose the meaning of stones and become jaded? Trying to trip up over false idols and punish ourselves with an outdated mandate, acting like we aren’t constipated. But tell me; has it always been this complicated to look past the rhetoric of our former selves?

   Fore fathers are forgotten. Make way make way! Past fields of henges and graves to look, no stare, at the images projected on stage and further than the speed of light.

   She doesn’t need a ring to be my wife, but that’s all that love is now. A sign on the dotted line alignment of the stars and stripes that we see across the water, feeling hungover, drowning in jealous intimidation like Noah’s daughters watching from the heights of the ark.

   Black ark international sails through the misty roots of dub plates, scratching through needles, turntables and mixers. Set blasters to stun.

     The DJ cuts with surgical precision through generations of rhythm, looking beyond the known world, magically balancing schisms until… the beat drops, like it’s bigger than hip hop and the whole façade becomes smaller, so much so you can measure it with a ruler. Watching tsars and minister’s fight over land and liberty, a sinister imagery plays over and over till we turn it off. The static is too loud, or am I the only one that can hear this? Is it the world or just tinnitus?

   I’m bored of the rhyme but I can’t seem to break out of the repetition because it comforts me as it comforts you too. Safety in numbers unless you are dislexik, or is that just stupidly and unnecessarily pedantic?

   This stream of consciousness has long dried out and I’m left with nothing but dirt and sand, watching a crow drop rocks into a jug of water, hoping that he’ll have pity on man. They know something we don’t know, but what? We’ll never find out.

   I thought we were a nation of rainbows and flags, but I looked around at my town and realized the bubble was not so pure.

 

 

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