Mag#148 "free from the palor of death"

The Jeep

 

Harkening back to our many happy road trips

in the distant past

it was on the backroad country

a foggy, rain-swept road

my mind now slip-shod

remembering

now simply a red tack

pinning me to the spot

where my red car spun out

 

 

i wholly surveyed the dire

 situation

within a moment by moment

mindframe unwind

all mind-chatter ceased

a cause to appeal

to the jury of one;

 for

myself

I would have no finger-pointing

or lay seige to my own inaction

there was no time for self-incrimination

so thoroughly dismissive of all charges

that I,

the captain within

claimed complete command

and subsequently dropped all injurous charges

renounced all ego 

suddenly the winds picked up

as it was

a dark and stormy night

again

the shadowy figure of

Edward Bulwer-Lytton

like the black dog

Lincolnesque

in his Edwardian morning suit

partially lit by an antique Victorian lamp

as he shed his light

at night

to show himself alive in effigy

as the convener of mystical marriages of

spirit-bound magicians

here 

the place
indeed lit up although time forgot

all about the soon-to-be quickening

who, but I could

make a 360 donut last in a centrifugal centrifuge
a fuge
rather than a dirge

 three times times minus zero

~O~O~O~

the outcome?

 a perfection of reactionary time co-efficient

The Co-Creator

who's skill saved our sorrowfullness

 using the only skill

which neccessitated the

honed her high cheekiness

so far beyond the outer limits

in the Twilight Zone

she, an experienced driver

and as such, I said as myself

would save all souls

repealled this fated day

from the peril of certainty

the nonimportance of ncecessity

with undesired plastic-means devices

and issued the non-prevailing winds

concurrently serving back-to-back sentences

becoming the centre placement of spin

a most peaceful place

where the calm meets the storm

where something unknown is bound to happen

probably something horrific had been waiting

2012 lurking like death

as in
the Mayan Long Count Calendar

21~12~12

all our lessons

learned in the empty mall parking lot

doing donuts whilst eating them

many winters ago

spinning counterclockwise

recalling the memorex

kept intact 

the timelines

free from the palor of death

and

the day

which

could have been our last

save it

the meet and greet with Michael

on the roadway to heaven

and in the killing fields

the deadly nightshade ditch

the highway to hell a gapping wound
the spiral unwound
left flat-faced and embarassed

who would  not intersect this midheaven
 in rhe way described
it was by the book

by my way of knowing all about
know-how

Chilam-Bilam

I saved your skin

sorry

 we've already
crossed-over

just don't know it as yet

 

chiccoreal

 

http://magpietales.blogspot.ca/