Aramis

= = = = = = = = = = = = = Malaysian Flower = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =  Trying to escape from a bat. It suddenly pulls up in mid-air. It turns to the side, Power Dive! A military pilot avoiding an adversary. Picking up high-frequency chirps from attacking bats. Yet impossible, believed to be deaf. Cyclopean ears that hide inside the thorax. Only animals, one ear. = = = =  Hunters of moths, and crickets. = = = = = = Predators of small lizards, of  birds that hum. = = Hunters that kill. Get hunted at night.

When hunted, Diving Corkscrew! Faster as it goes down. Bat doesn't pull up. The meteor hits the ground, to survive.

-Obtained from "The Better To Hear You With" by " Doreen Cubie" from "National Wild Life" 2009

= Music =

A clear path made of diamonds is what I see. With every step I take my eyes fill with glee. As I learn more of the instrumental tune, It takes me a step closer to the Moon.

Those who don't see it my way will never understand. But what do you know!? You're Bland! You criticize simply because you don't understand! Those who dislike the glorious melodious music is a crow!

You hear a song of instrumental lore. Immediately you criticize, but you are listening form the door! Come inside, listen with your heart. If you don't do as I say I will split you apart!

I take music quite seriously. When you mistreat it, I throw a violent fit. I will SCREAM! I will SHOUT! until you are left breathless, and die of a heart attack! If you open the door, and listen from within, you will understand me. Then you will be overflowed with power greater than the SEA! - My clear path made of diamonds, you will see.

The Wondering Boy

I glare at the Sun from my window There, in the sky, it must be lonely A big ball of fire, in the wild blue yonder Wonder I, for why no other stars are attracted to it  Why don't you just abscond dear Sun? fly away? Soar through the blue and descry a mate Expand your celestial blazed wings and fly As night descends upon us, you may go Sun! GO!

I was setting on the horizon, when my vision fell upon a boy Gazing at me benevolently Did he pity me for being alone? Only if he knew, I must stay away If I don't stay away, you will succumb to bereavement boy I have mastered the art of depressing desolation I enjoy being solitary, I don't need your pity child I am the light in your day, like the lamp in your room, just a gazillion times bigger.

The Soloist I conveyed my weapon from side to side Each stroke violent and precise

I synchronize my appendages with my right hand Focus in my Tone, and in awe you shall stand

I set my weapon to obliterate you without Fear You will reflect on your life and release a tear

I blast you with the sound of my deadly black weapon In your seat you stay, your attention I have taken

I increase the force, more pressure, on my weapon's thread The sound so great, the theater behind you explodes instead

I will let you live, but only like lithophytes on rock You will cling to my music, everyday hear my weapon talk

It will open its mouth and release a melodious sigh You, in turn, will start to cry

It then will discombobulate you with a venomous ROAR! You will never think of leaving through that door.

I Am I am the cellist The power generator of music class The source of the deep voice that sings loudly I read my favorite language while my fingers do all the work

I am the care Devoting my life to her Dressing her up for every concert I keep her smooth soft skin stylish black

I am the ride giver I take her to her destinations

I am the helper My melodious partner will blow your mind away she bellows in delight when I lay my fingers upon her

She is the patience, I am the decision maker She lingers in the corner until I decide to dance with her She sits when not in use, like a dog who has finished playing Silently she sojourns on her nightstand at night until day break

She is my passion, my life The universe will soon learn of her

I AM THE CELLIST R.I.P My Dear Starry Night. She shall be remembered as the best first cello, no other can replace her.

The Crimson Finger

The thin lamp that stares at you The end pin of a cello The red hilt of a sword A leg from a chair A sentinel tree A necrotized neck Charming chap-stick A test tube The bleeding stick in your backyard A vertical line A blushing beak Thin candles Straight String An arrow A human leg A flashlight

My Price Chopper blood-red pencil on my dining room table, 7:30 p.m. 3/23/11

Random Pics!


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