"Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything."

-Plato

Like magic or magnets
    an image representation
to plot a texture map
    to get the smoothness
it is good to set the proper
    VertexNormals,
She is gorgeous
     wrapped around a cylinder,
I can so manipulate,
     into a Graphics Complex
into a graphic primitive
     into a sphere revolving
around me.

I, like a matrix...
transpose myself and my ability to feel
into a sentient being (quite
immense , a task)
If you ask?

Reflect the element A to the I
as A feels:
repeat the  processes
until we return...

with the feelings of the other,
intact;  sharing the burdens
emotions, the hard facts
felt not with tactile touch
but,

through compassion. It may
take triangulating or strangulating reason, departing
from the safe sanity (in);
It may take Egotism to think that way.

Use your imagination.

Fields lie green before the eyes of the world.
Media reports tales.
The old stonewalls are glowing.
Seemingly lined with fairy lights.
Highlighting the flowers.
The beautiful flowers dropped by the little girl with smiling eyes.
Long hair of piercing shiny blonde is draped about her neck.
She's carrying a wicker basket.
Her flowers seemingly overflowing.
They appear to be poppies you know.
Some flaming red, others a perfection in innocent white.
She flicks her hair away from her delicate shoulders.
Her feathered wings released.
Today, she comes bearing beauty.
The child of the angels returns.
She is begging for world peace.
(C) LIVVI

exploratious exchange of the spirit and brain

happened on a windy, acid aftermath saturday.

like a breeze through a tree

we exchanged our deeper meanings

and you moved me~

Colours
blending me now,
sensing,sending me,
how do they know
what I feel?

There are some words to describe what it seems like to slide down a rainbow or what corn hears as it grows in the field,
I don't know what they are,but
ask me how far it is far and I'll tell you,it's as far as the length of a thought.
when you think that you know, in the time corn hears the **** crow, that thought will be longer and further away.
I've never slid down a rainbow but I bet it is soft,like a hollow of hedgerows and the **** crows......doo,
and I will.

Still these colours crowd in on me as
If there's something that they can see
and I can't.

Perhaps I'm being fixed up to pick my bundle of sticks up and carry on,
red means I stop but then amber will pop up and make up the green in me,
seen in me,sensed all about and,
me,
often blind
cannot find the end of my nose but the signpost always shows me the way.

I will chop up the firewood to warm up the blood in me,
do something good for,
I am tired of this selfish destruct in me,while
empathy selfishly laughs at me,
it seems to be always the me in me that can't see the wood for the fire that burns in me,
I should try to be
something I am
something of a man in me tells me that to be free,
it is this I must do.
The **** crows and
I will.

As he began to play his song I was transported into another dimension
A place where all of his hopes and all of his pain came together to form a beautiful tapestry
The tapestry told a story of deceit and betrayal with colors of dark red and black
But as the song continued the story began to change and the colors began to adapt
Splashes of pink and blue entered the tapestry as his faith was sung
Soon Yellow and Green began to intertwine with the tapestry as sparks of joy entered his words.
This tapestry that was once dull and uninviting had transformed into a complex depiction of the trial and triumphs of his life.
Who knew that eight simple notes could form into the tapestry of life?

whence the word special is said, be wary of the speaker
whence the word special is said, be wary of the speaker
pitfalls are in the making, one can trip up
pitfalls are in the making, one can trip up
pitfalls are in the making, whence the word special is said
be wary of the speaker, one can trip up

the memory stores info well, an utterance hollow ne'er forgot
the memory stores info well, an utterance hollow ne'er forgot
wising up seeing the light, one is misguided
wising up seeing the light, one is misguided
one is misguided, the memory stores info well
wising up seeing the light, an utterance hollow ne'er forgot

a revelation did dawn, that guy wasn't legit
a revelation did dawn, that guy wasn't legit
his line but a fallacy, clearness of sight now prevails
his line but a fallacy, clearness of sight now prevails
clearness of sight now prevails, that guy wasn't legit
a revelation did dawn, his line but a fallacy

a revelation did dawn, one is misguided
pitfalls are in the making, whence the word special is said
that guy wasn't legit, an utterance hollow ne'er forgot
his line but a fallacy, wising up seeing the light
one can trip up,the memory stores info well
be wary of the speaker, clearness of sight now prevails

///

One day these bricks and buildings were meadows
These fields the processions of spring garden

One day on these meadows used to play the cowboy’s melancholy flute  
These fields the playground of the furious grasshoppers

These bricks were rivers
These buildings processions of water

In these rivers the moon's dispersion played on the uprising waves,
How softly the sailor sang his lonely song, disappearing within the shadows!

Travelers,
Have I told you a fairy tale?

///