My Love, Seated Celestially At Royal Ease

In succession, a vast interwoven web of dreams courses directly into my imagination with a lucid wit that invigorates my physical intellect in a spark of mental action, a fluid repose enunciates my insides as I feel deeply the excited insights of an active seeing into the contents of mind, perception, memory and the quality of subtle necessity to be, even at the minuscule point of one inner knowing, a shape-shifting life unfolds to meet my dream-woman, Love herself
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outside of a well-manicured, high-society, private university-type atmosphere, aside elegant glass panes to hold the humidity of an indoor tropical garden, the Autumn light recedes into a root-filled fern forest floor. the damp ground hovers effortlessly before the thriving of innumerable tingling mycelium underneath my bare feet haunted by the rural lore of spiritual flight into the unadulterated natural presence, an enamored romanticism bleeding with dank obscurity in the darkening passageway to my chosen activity. a drum kit drowns the sky in a clamor of happiness. the air fills with the deathless heartbeats of an unschooled drumming, careless and heartening in wild chaos, a laughter from the belly of nature herself. and the smoke of her following lingers, I wander through these free sounds into a labyrinth of hosts, on the screaming edge of Babylon in a glorious architectural feat, a Victorian hideaway, though lightless, subdued red cushions and mahogany hallways lay carpeted, leading with royal ease unto the sofa whereupon my Love resides celestially.
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His Landscape

(written by Her above)

That atmosphere of calm with thunder and with light shows
engulfs me with every kiss, every word, pulse and every sigh
In dreams as in my waken state
Living our Dreams
We strain not to stay attached, but strain any time we are detached
So painful to be apart
even if just an arms length apart

No warmth in the world
Only he is my World
Surrounding me with his glances
and laughter

While I continue to learn of this ridiculous world
As long as I am in Love

Crash on the Mountain traveling to Coastal Vibration

Snowstorm by Jospeh Mallord William Turner

I wake slowly, as if to fade from white, in a crashed helicopter on a snowy mountainside. The mountain is immense, with drifting snow and endless depressions and plateaus that show a premature horizon, not unlike a ski hill. I walk alone, as a sole survivor down to the base of the mountain. At the base, I find a house occupied by an East Indian family who seem active in the military, as a man proceeds from the house in uniform. Though I am hurt, and look foreign to them, they barely notice as I ask for their help next to their low fencing around their estate. The lady within the grounds of the house suddenly notices me, however there is no exchange, I could be invisible. Suddenly I find a small vehicle, similar to a scooter, however powered and able to push through the snow.

Next, I am in what seems as a coastal village in Egypt or Mexico or a place similar. I seem to have lost my powered scooter, however I see them around the village in different forms. The village, in some ways, appears to look like Sayulita, Mexico or Abu-Seer, Egypt. There are children running about and I befriend two young women about my age. These two young women remind me of two young women I met in Mexico City, Mexico. One of them is more fair-skinned and the other with dreadlocks and a bit of a darker character in general. I become somewhat attached to them as they help me around the village to find a powered scooter that is available. I find one within someone’s small yard near to a river and leave the girls behind.

Next, I am in a classroom style room, however without standardized desks, and the front of the room is occupied with a band. The band is very talented, playing mathematically-timed jazz/rock type music. The keyboardist is the front man and leads the band. I enjoy the music. After the show, the keyboardist begins to speak about the music, and the audience opens for questions.

Later, I meet the keyboardist at a bar/restaurant on Stephen Ave. in Calgary, AB. I don’t order any alcohol; however he is drinking and sits beside me. I compliment him on his music and we engage in steady conversation. I ask about the inner dynamics of his music and he accommodates my questions well. I then tell him that I am part of a music project with my wife. I introduce him to her instrument, the Chinese zither, and say that I play an Egyptian doumbek drum.  He is intrigued, however when I say that we only improvise and play spontaneously he says that he can not do that, which I can understand from listening to the highly methodical nature of the music.

Sept. 30, 2011