Laranska The Anatomy of Fear: Novel, Published 09.01.09 by Imsonium Books

Laranska is an epic novel, comprised of four books: Laranska: The Anatomy of Fear, Laranska: The Rising Phoenix, Laranska: The Onnead and Laranska: The Laranska Symphony. Laranska is an epic story of a people chronicling their journey to seek and achieve Laranska, where humanity is able to live and create the continuum of wonders of beauty and the spectrum of joys, pulsating the infinite Universe, resonating the wonders that Humanity is. Laranska is an epic and a poignant love story, almost mythical in scope, depth and breadth of Dr David Geoffrey Ramsden Racksobite and Dr Jennifer Isabel Pearl Armstrong who find that their destiny, love and struggles are inextricably linked with the destiny of their people; a destiny that encompasses so many people, so many stories and so much love, so much faith and so much courage spreading across times and geographies and their determined journey, both of life and love, continued in order for them and their people to come together to locate their Immisfree. To buy the Novel From the Publisher   From Amazon.co.uk

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The Love Song of Lazarus Imsanlucius Eponiafrock Hokisna donum I shosama yona hokisna muchim lusim formamain thista awsamara harikenadi enta iminam hartsimsi I itim onlisan megnetaisama iminim aquan totum flowinia entotum an haistimsi lunataidim sarklisamain yona entotum an sonarlusong enta mauthsoo ofso tham gashramain rivaranium risuamain totum tham osanoma ofso lusim itim yona arim! Itim yona arim! Let us bell the feet, Alpha and Omega, When the esplanade is melting in moon light Against the glistening mist over the unrestful rising sea Unlike daily bloods on the aprons of beer-face-nurses Let us walk through the sure bloom of silicamond radiance The restless rebound Of the tangled up tight-nights of despair or drinks And of made up cheap champagne-myths And the clichéd feel-good dead fishes Where streets that run like dark banana skins Waiting to take us all in a free fall of doom Of no rise up of incisement or intent To lead you to a Himalaya-question: Yes, oh, yes, do not forget to ask: ‘What if?’ Let us just go and grab and sip our visit In the King Midas market people buy and sell Talking of ghosts and demons not Sistine Chapel The dark bird-pooh-map on car-bonnets on Barking Road The winter’s dust-bayoneted smoke rises and risks a response Dead seed falls back broken like Jack’s Bean’s Stalk on stalking evening Lingering in the breath of the shadow of recounting the magic of the origin Let just dissolve upon this areal river through the crack With a duo-flight with our torch of touch in December night’s disk Mark some teacups with eponium touch and cascade in sleep And indeed time, will there, roll For the dark bird pooh-map on car-bonnets on Barking Road Dead seed falls back broken like Jack’s Bean’s Stalk on stalking evening There will be time, time there will be To prepare make up to make up with made up faces There will be time to mark and make And time for all that shape ups and numbers in fingers That fountain into questions on your palms Time for Alpha and time for Omega And time yet for hundred inkissments And for a hundred drafting and redrafting Before the taking up of the tea-walk In the King Midas market people buy and sell Talking of ghosts and demons not Sistine Chapel And of course there is to be time To ponder ‘Not if but when and how? Time to bring back and ascend the sky Even when a bald-spot grew in the bare lawn of my lost hair (They will say: ‘How, bare his roof is looking!’) My marked suit, still mounted tightly to my shape My you-choose tie and modest but it has a song-like glow (Even when they will say: ‘But how his scarred arms and legs are failing!) And yes, without asking I will disturb the peace of the Universe In a minute I will reverse the time For an Alpha and Omega rise For I have kwon it all already, lived them all Have known all events of times and their shapes I have refused to mark out life with bent tea spoons I know the voices dying without a dying scream Out of the spread of all the markets And yet I always dared and will presume And I have loved the eyes already, loved too much The eyes that fix one in a foreseeable magnificence And when I am found in the spread of the shape and I am rising And when I am being drunk like silver-moon-light-wine Even when I am pierced in the middle with a knife When I am stuck and bleeding on the table Even then I will presume And I know where to begin And I have seen the arms already, known them all Arms that wrapped in bare accessories dried dusty dates (But in the club-hub-dub drowned in sweaty lights) And the smell off dresses That made me dive out And even then I will presume you And I will always know how and where to Shall I say, I have walked through light-livened streets And watched the smoke making your heart in white in the sky Of lonely cloud-roses like my heart leaning towards you I should have been a Forest Ranger Breezing through the grass like dew wet rays across moonlit mist And the time after morning, the time following dusk, forms peace a flower Woven though fountain-fingers of magnetism Sleeping--- napping or closed-open Like you on the carpet here beside Alpha and Omega I shall, after the car and cakes and running a-mock Have strength to frame the moment into a bloom Though I have bled and swallowed hunger, wiped salty water and prayed Though I have seen my head (reaching out to slight boldness) on the market stall-plate I am no Jesus- and here is no great fete I have seen the moment in the crystal in condensed water in frost-icicle the road-end And heard the call of being called back any-soon And in an i-space of time I was a bursting bubble And would it have been merry, after everything After the breathing songs of tides, rides of cars and roses Among the imsleys and crocuses, among some sonar connections between Alpha and Omega Would it have been merry To have caused tears off the matter with a bite, And thrown the residue towards an overstanding question, To pose: I am the Lazarus, came with life Come back to tell you- to tell you—to tell you-----‘ If one, placing the pillow bellow her hyacinth head, Should with universe-whole-eyes weaving out say: ‘’Tell me, do tell me, please tell me!’’ But I shall not do any such thing at all And would it have been worth the time, after end of all the time’s ends Would it have been worth-the-wrath- of seething life After the collections of sunsets and the hearing of the dooryards and the rivering streets After the poets and after the songs and the sleepless nights along the silent dunes And this and much added to more It is impossible not to just say I mean the songs and the coming through and storms in the myths But the magic lit a candle-scape in the shape of the universe in your face Would it have been worth the bleed and beats? If one, placing the pillow bellow her hyacinth head, Should with universe-whole-eyes weaving out say: ‘’Tell me, do tell me, please tell me!’ But I shall not do any such thing at all No, I am not like Macbeth, nor did I want to be; Am just a pauper collecting gifts, one that will Just be a slight light right night flow, write or sing a scene of two Advise not any prince and no doubt he is no easy tool Difference of elements equates him, glad to breathe Profound, pondsey, and pulsating Full of imsleys but like the letter x On occasions, indeed, almost impossible Almost, at times, an insane wind My body ages! My body ages! But I shall not wear any short measured clothes pulled rolled or scrolled Shall I part my hair or spread? No, and I will always eat my silk redereen apple As always I shall wear my white trousers and walk upon the sand of my beach Where I heard and forever hear my mermaid sing and singing I do not think she will cease to ring me, writhe me and sing for me I have ridden my horse of wind port-bound over the misty ocean-waves Combing the fragrant hair on white cliff-tops of foams When the wind rests on fallen foaming aqua sheets of waves on the gold feet of the sands We have lived in the coral cavern of the night-ocean Fed by songs of the writhing sea-weed clasped green Till time’s eternal lamp stops disturbing us we drink Go Up The Tale of Indus   Before I became India’s eyes I was in the hard-cold Unforgiving Europa’s heart from where onward I travelled for sustenance towards the Indus land Where there were others who I did not like much There I was with the scriptures and powers of gods And there I claimed my prize and settled in on top Of all the darkish underdogs all falling in line quickly I claimed India’s eyes and ears and installed an Arian Soul in the valleys of various textures, vines and virtues All was Indian Arian: the robust roost was thumped I was there spreading all kinds of things Arian aurelias I called the shot cooling and cajoling with gods’ grace But be the story told I was not anywhere near Europa When I was living in the heated hard hearth of Africa From where I moved with a burnt out jacket before Ice hit us in our dark bodies and eyes we became cold Time’s breakfast-lunch-supper later we began to shred Our jackets and had a lot of practice killings about things That we could not resolve in our previous chords and Discords we began to be Arian all over Europa’s body What has not changed is this: we keep moving by the Magnetism of food and in search of easier weather We have always been what we made up to call our call Yet we are not near what we ever could have become In the filth of slimy slaughterhouse of made up tales We are the end of lights and a bunch of benign bigots Wherever we are we are drinking thick blood and bones Leaving the dawns to dawn heating our hatred’s pools Yet the kiss of sun in a different temperate topical phase I lost my shine of Europa’s bless where new Arian coats Grasped the body of my kin and kith who began to show What I sung to Indian myth before she gave in caved in Wherever I am I am not what I am but what I make believe I believe in my price I fragrance my nasty smell and hide My claws of hatred and ignorant imbecile misguided look To life and the earth forgetting I shred jackets like snakes Always to suit me to clothe me to keep me safe cold or warm Depending on where I reach in the search of physical heat There is nothing that I like but make hell and kill all: singing Ignorant I am like to live in a rotten dark well willing blind Wherever I am I like to I feel the frills of comfort’s clasp Not knowing how deep the constant pull-push of Earth Changing my shape size and colours that’s a live response To protect me from heat lights dark rays of the sun and sol Hence in Africa my look is one in Japan I become Nipponic And in Europe I lark in the pale while in India I dye in henna In Tibbet my tiles are toiled in less pressures and more cold In Australia my noah’s ark is made differently than Nigeria My eyes ears nose head hold and length and breadth all shape Up like literal clay made vase cup or a cupid bow and arrow I look exactly the way I ought to so that I can breath-bold Carry on calling the shots of life and its awesome offerings But I do not see it nor do I feel it nor am I to admit it for I am a thick empty head where my neurons are neurotic With ignorant pills and arrogant pride in my fallacies and fall Hence there is the trail of blood and bigotry in my defaced face Go Up The Marriage of Elements This fiery bridegroom who burns in fury of fire And this enabling caring bride who helps burn Dressed in desire’s diamonds their union went To the unison coming together in this aqua kiss! Hydrogen and Oxygen being two gas floating Away in space burning and helping things burn Yet their aqua magmatic kiss formed them in one They form a state of heat a flowing duo-in one Losing what they were alone they found what They ought to be together a liquid flow of being Flowing forever in an eternal serenade of glow Bringing the love of seasons weathers and winds They make love in different ways and means at Different heat: in cold their bed is soft flowery White in snow-flakes they float in a spread of White falling and flying radiating soft diamond In further cold their heat hoists them into moist Solid transparent silver gold and they sing a song Of tranquil magnetism radiating see through call Of love being in a spread of cold’s radiant kisses Pearls they spread in singing white and moist they Sing and reflect the truth yet in the changed season Of heat they melt in their moist coming out into a Dancing liquid flow serenading while flowing out Downhill and dancing singing through the space Flowing and blowing and charging and changing Bringing tender kisses and coral touch and there We have all springs rivers lakes seas and oceans All mossy and green all smiling in a velvet spread Of thriving life all fern and moss all being in a set Of rising opening blooming all in a rush of being Wet moist and soft and hard and all opening gold There the expression aqua rests and shifts a gear At changing season of heat they spread again in A thinner presence and they form white scarves Of their love now in the air fathoming the white They float in the high wind being carried out Onto mountains and deserts and dry and hot Lands they offer shadows of cool and winds Have a reason to blow and they gather them In the high heaven in the sky their soft white Kissogram spreads they form a deeper weight And colours they run fast heavy and pregnant Reaching mountains falling over wetting all on Down pouring warmth of aqua they are now Dancing aqua-children murmuring down hill Being in shine of falling enlivening all the way They begin this new season again of flowing In this states the fiery bridegroom and the bride Now as one make love through varying seasons Their strength of bond makes the wind to chase A system of weather: blooming life’s imsonium Go Up   These Spanish translations have been done by Dr Natalia Carbajosa   Sobre el puente triste de Southwark Camino de noche sobre el puente triste de Southwark Bajo farolas que a tocarme se inclinan Mi mente es una con el aire libre donde juguetea el espacio Y dejo a las nocturnas luces dividir mi sombra en tres Moviéndose mientras camino y juega el viento húmedo Con las olas y el agua excesiva ahí abajo Sobre la que luces urbanas casi irreales crean Peces plateados de luz pirueteando rítmicos y leves Mientras aspiro el aire como si la vida se reflejara En esta nada absoluta y salvaje que tan sólo Se alcanza en un estado de asombrada y herida melancolía Y pienso en mis hijos, mi familia que me espera. English Orginal: On Soulful Southwark Bridge I walk on soulful Southwark Bridge at night Under the street lamps that lower themselves to touch me My mind equates the free air where it plays the space And I let the night lights divide my shadow into three That move as I walk while the wet wind plays With the waves and water bellow appearing fulsome On which the city night lights create almost unreal Silver fishes of lights playing rhythmic light lounge While I inhale the air as though life has mirrored itself Into this wild absoluted nothingness that can only Be reached in a state of wonder wounded melancholy And I think of my children and family waiting ahead Go Up Avenida de luces en octubre Respondiendo a un solo impulso certero descendí Del autobús una parada antes de mi destino Y comencé a pasear como si tuviera algo Sereno y floreciente que contemplar con embeleso Avancé hasta el puente- avenida de luces en octubre Dejando que el viento húmedo pintara obras invisibles En el lienzo de mi rostro, soplara en mi pelo con Un vívido frescor que algo mágico extrajera De mí mismo y me torné en casual visitante Presto a retener las melodías de estos recuerdos Atesorados y a regarlos como geranios diamantinos A la espera de germinar en cristales de silencio Paseando por el puente miré al río aún muy joven Tembloroso donde el viento recortaba un lienzo vivo De tridimensional danza sobre la superficie del agua concediendo a unos artistas comunales pergeñar La obra de arte del día: las sombras de los edificios El cielo salpicado de nubes ligeras, blancas y lanudas Las gaviotas, los puentes y las olas entrechocadas Ondulándose y las barcas y navíos con ellas. Habiendo llevado todo eso a mi áureo ser continué Caminando hasta el vientre de la ciudad donde trabajo Mas algo llevaba en mi esencia con una fragancia Un toque áureo de algo que pudiera llamarse casi ser vivo Dentro que latía y cantaba sublime como el Serengeti Y ahí permanece a tu alcance para ser llevado de paseo. Go Up English Original: October Avenue of Lights On a sudden response to a surely sole urge I Got off the bus one step before my destination And began walking as if ahead I had something Serene and thriving waiting to be witnessed spellbound I stepped onto the Bridge-an October avenue of lights Letting the water blown wet wind paint invisible works On the canvas of my face, blowing my hair with A live thriving coolness that brings something magical Out of oneself and I became a welcome passing through Visitor who would keep the melodies of these memories Treasured and water these as though they were diamond Geraniums waiting to propagate into spectacles of silence As I walked on the bridge I looked at the fulsome-young Trembling river where wind played out a living-dancing Three dimensional canvas on the surface of water And allowed an array of communal artists to play out An art work of the day: the shadows of the buildings The sky splattered with fluffy white light clouds The sea gulls, the bridges and the ever chasing waves Rippling out and the boats and ships all joined in. Having taken all that into my areal being I carried on Walking into the belly of the city where I work Yet I carried something in my essence that had a fragrance An areal touch of something that felt like almost a living thing Inside that kept beating and singing a Serengeti sublime And here it remains open to be taken for a ride at your leisure Go Up

Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo All beings may they be joyous May they be joyous all beings On the Universe all be joyous Joy may they sing may they sing Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo I will gather roses Of the waves On the beach White foam-roses I will fill an urn In the moon-silence Out of the dawn A mat I will make For you I will gather Wish-bonds Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo And see how the mind praying Dissolves in the ocean of beings And does not think of shimself Does not think of shimself at all Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo I will break myself With my will I will Cell myself out into Torches of lights In the dark a sun For you and I will Dust the air into winds I will fathom your garden I will fathom your garden With your foot prints scarlet I will will you songs Of distant beauties’ reaches I will sculpt the lights On the body of the dark With your smile Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo And shim says and shim prays The beings’ ocean holds shim A bubble-brilliance shining on And shim prays not for shimself Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo I will craft my lands That are Eden Gardens Inside my space and sparks For your perusal and reach I will sing out the starts Whos lights you see only They are no longer singing I will paint you a rose A blue rose on the white sky I will call the sky To bubble wrap the earth I will will you only to smile I will shape you into a strand A strand of the rays of infinite lights I will tell you stories of furthering horizons I will spell you motion-bloomed worlds I will call your names in Imsillions of languages and tunes I will tell you how to write the name The name of what it is What it is that’s a seed Of your expressive joys I will sing you I will sing you into a high tide river’s rise I will bring you the moon dazed ocean And sun bedazzled mountains And I will sing the notes of you Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo All beings be joyous or otherwise Regardless of that shim blooms on A beautiful song-light-rose-peace Shim carries on singing the song Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo And I will wipe out these marks On these maps and I will dissolve These barriers and bothers and barkings Of boundaries on earth and I will call you Whatever names I could light up I will tell you the scriptures of the rivers I will tell you the metre of the oceans I will show you the landscape of the nights I will take you to the enigma of the rise and fall I will lay out the genome of the phantom I will size the unsizeable in a seismic clasp I will show you what only songs can do I will tell you the design of the fragrance Of the Lily of the Valley I will tell you the enigma of the oceans I am and I am not for I will show you How to sculpt an explosion of wonders In the handshake of only two hands And the supernova only in four eyes And there I will sing you the wind-spread And there I will raise you towards the summer vines And I will seek you to be just that glistening pearl green single grape I will tell you the grammar of those summer vines And their shadows soft and lightly dark on serene green grass And I will sing you to rise and be that single glistening pearl green grape Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo It’s not I in need of a right to be happy It’s I who have a duty to pray for joys For all for that is the ocean that will Form me into a song a line of light And I will always think of all that is not me I will sing all that is not me I will always sing what that is not me I will always take you to the waterfalls I will show you how to open a word And find a brilliant white water melon heart inside Bursting out at your eyes wetting you I will show you how dreams unfold around you Like a bloom of the universe around you And you are a rose at the middle of it I will show you how to rise and sing that bloom I will challenge you to throw these broken books I will challenge you to rise and seek and be rich I will ask you to drop and abandon this poverty And I will sing you into richness where You have the best of wealth You have the best of emmaphires That’s your bloomed soul a rose On the Universe unfolded around you I will take you to the horizon I will take you to the bees I will take you to the heart of the silence And I will wet you with the silence of the word And silver you with the speech of the word And I will show you what you are An open brook bleeding only butterfly songs And dancing downhill you are nothing but a motional bloom A bloom of joys that beyond measure shape holds you I will will you the best The best that you hold unfold fold and make I will take you back to your heart Where I will make you a home And I will sing you a song I will sing you I will sing you I will sing you a song Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo Form me into a song a line of light A bubble-brilliance shining on For all beings to reach joys’ shore Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo I will take you back to your heart Where I will make you a home And I will sing you a song I will sing you I will sing you I will sing you a song Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo Sob-be sot-ta sookheeta hoyontoo   Go Up Only the Clouds are Beautiful and Her Eyes The spring still carries on pure water Only now it is drunk in by red blood Sunk in the flow over the reddened Pebbles still the music of flow goes On before the eyes that sparkle in The gleaming lights of the sunny Day outside a tent hurriedly built The woman feeds the baby from a Malnutrated breast with hollowed Eyes that have no tears left to drop And the men survey the spring that Carries on like a red snake curving The body of the valley that supports The mountains where clouds still Propagate wonder-scapes of the sky There they count the dead bodies That are stuck on stones and now Blocking the waters reddening its Skin the men gather and collect the Corpses on the grass the dead-red Still-frames on the green grass they Speak to the sky in the ether of the Air and the woman pushes the kids Into the tent as if she could save them From the sun as if she could protect Them from this scene and her eyes Freeze across time and space over Arching Burma and Bolivia and all That we have walked this lunacy this Slaughter that sings our sickness to kill Only the clouds are beautiful and her Eyes where the children play hopscotch Only her hands that push the kids into The makeshift tent are beautiful only her Eyes that glisten with love is beautiful and Only her breasts that still find goodness is Beautiful only her eyes that still have dreams Are beautiful only her eyes that have dreams Of children playing hopscotch are beautiful Only her heart where children sing is beautiful Only her eyes glistening in dreams are beautiful Go Up Ideaphor How do I clay out this coral symphony! How do I lay my clayed words to moist The music in what I hear surrounding out! How do I encompass this compassless in? Here high and low all height and all hue Here we all in the grasp of a fragrant fall In this hall where a waltz is waving out See smell touch taste and hear to reach How do I colour this cupid co-relation In space wearing time all come together An image it is not nor is it a melancholy Landscape or orchestral thralls and waltz How do I capture this nature beyond call? This that is out of reach of just a metaphor Where do I go other than where no one has Been yet my boats and beats are the same Of language, its soil, soul, myth and moulds I am here with metaphoring marks and mints I am in for a ride on the geometry of the rainbow I am seeking an ideaphor to form this lone call This is an orchestra put together as we speak The symphony being composed as we seek The right gradients and points and pressure Joints: here colours are formed and notes are Fermented: all the lights and the compounding Darkness and their relations and the responses Interactions: here seeing alludes to hearing and Smelling takes smouldering touch and taste toils Into something a magnetic mushroom that can Only be viewed in a sphere where all becomes One: like the rainbow where all colours lose their Lobsters and become the flow of static motion The audience sits under the canopy of darkness That hung from the dome: all dazzling darkness All seated in the rain of anticipation’s moist touch Looking up at the stage where lights’ glows lit all The stage static: no instrument is played or strung But vines of luminous green hung downward from All walls that are in a flux flow: wind played notes Flying about yet there are images thrown in on the top Of the dome and the walls left right and back the images Flush up and go creating further flushing notes added To the existing music of the vines on the stage swirling The building is struck by the low lightning of the moon In this valley of crickets and night flies playing low-note In a moist fragrant silver fumes rising upwards slowly And all this comes in as living broadcast onto the stage The out is in with the notes and the frame of fragrance The building top where spires rise up like willed masts Towards the heaven where stars are staring in roles of Open ended questions of relations and reorientations in A wonder-strung slow motion marvel of space and time And there comes the movement from somewhere out Golden velvet brown leaves blown inwards through A tunnel awash in lights on wind’s winding mouth Blown in together in a dance: now is heard and seen The images of that flow glow out onto the stage through The orchestra of leaves in the wind as though a waterfall Of music and images and speed and motion flowing over That run towards the audience as a river that never was And there goes the wind-chased leaves thrown upwards Onto a domed home where they whirl up and down and There they soak in soft touch of rain and there appears A rainbow afar shining: the river flows towards the hall And there fall the rain and the gold soft leaves flooding Downhill through pebbles and stones and the gushing Of water spreads towards a space where there is no low Where they are in one with something as what they are The lightning rings thunder spins and rain rinses out A coral clasp and there the moon rises in the sky and a Melancholy nightingale sings and the seasons open up And a chorus of motion shakes the dark dome of all And there comes the glowing space and luminous Stars in the glowing dark the whole of the out rises In live broadcast on the roof that opens a window To the heaven: a flock of birds fly in formation in a Rhythmic elaboration somewhere on a wall where A shoal of fishes silvers out the pearls of motion fast An eagle sings a call towards his lover somewhere Far out into the forest’s breast and migrating penguins Leave sound leaves music behind as they walk on ice The thunder spins the lightning rings and the rain rinses Out the inner notes of all: paintings displayed on a wall Are nothing but cast images that falls one after another Making marks of the music in relation to real and not There come the bees in millions buzzing round and up All comes the dawn and the sunset swirling up a sizeable Cosmos of colours: call out of owls and flamingos sound The babies laugh and the children play and the lovers Search for the fires and silks to form the chemistry of Poised genetic energies swelling up on their lips pushed Up as particles of dancing enigma: all in one afire in tune And there was the fragrance of rain vine and shine The sounds of notes and the blended velvet of music And the chorus that composed itself through out The human bodies minds and spirits that sat there And here comes spreading like the way moon spreads The fragrances of wet flowers, blown leaves and moist Earth and happy grass and the kiss of semi lights and Deep dark and the impregnating music: the madness! Audience smells of roses jasmines and bite strawberries And they rise like the shining moon over which fly by The hypnotized clouds carrying possibility’s rain-child They are in the highest of note of the symphony: sung All in one all swirling out all dancing all imaging in All touch and taste all smell and see all hear and near A metaphor is not enough to bring this close home I stand up and open my mouth to call in an ideaphor Here where we sit all dried and wet moist and hot All cold and heated and hoisted and lowered and soft Strong and sublime where all comes together in a liquid Mead of marked joys: a rainbow ideaphor we are one Go Up Matter-flakes In the heat of extreme season of matters under fire Pressures ferocious requires changes fast fury-like Definitive: stages shift like gear-change beating flow Of time: the heat melts matter into a thinning liquid That flows into steam and further breakage into a State where the violent thumping continues on Breaking matters’ elemental nucleic form into A flow of matter-flakes diamond-dust photons They flow outwards away in a dance of being Becoming impossible bearers: fluorescent glow Carrying the songs of matters into music of Waves and spectrum of colours that play in Black’s endless playground spelling out things Into shapes sizes and locations where colours Light’s children fall on the field of white garden And they dance up down here there everywhere Creating the rainbow fountain dance of colours Coral they make the world where darkness holds The flow of being in a wider deeper care-pressure That continues being’s symphony in an anti-flux Pressures or pains motion pace and time pearl out What it is that we are flowing in a state expanding That makes matter-flakes and we flow on: in the end Pains is a rain that makes us monsoon and into being There are ways of being that are limit bound fixed We are in different length being in a different way In summer in one in winter another being as much As we can take in the challenges of arrows and hits The stars resourcing the sources of seasons of the Iguanas and icicles all taking in pains to reach joys Of lights, colours, rays and their motional flowing Out that set out our reach as far as we could take In and out we spin flow and glow in waves and flows Creating all that shine and shimmer so long we are Having the will to be in a matter-flakes round of out Voyage: thus living is not just the song but the being Into a song that takes all that one can make break and Sing out without expecting of the end-bound bounce Reaching outwards towards Ithaca’s fathomless spread Pain’s end is joy’s beginning in a matter-flakes music