Danny James

Tag: dream

364: March

By a failure in the middle or some componential devastation, the chords precisely though struck, warp their resonation in vague and sombre swerves and lovely arcs unreliable like a firework and paint your face with flame licked fascination! And she dances still, unperturbed. In happy chains, O graceful prisoner in a dateless sentence, tied in tones which loop and sway hypnotistic imperfections ascending a strange marvellousness and an imperial insight into the world like a dream the world needs and cannot enter but by consent of celestial law. By energies grim and secret, pruning patterns as would instruct by disaster. What wasn’t expected or supposed to but had to happen. The heavens know not else but to rain down relief on the rest, for unique and outrageous though, – by crashes shaped and of leftovers put together, can no dark thus in Her reside. There is no limp in Her song like would Her bent pirouette depict, but survived She dances on and on an entirety of sewn misshapen fragments out of an order broken. Of love and stitches, and smiles mightier than tears. No scathing, no catastrophes. A knotting of lost opposites flourished in bind. Orphanage of a thriven. O colourful distortion, perfect disharmony, a stamina in fault is found, beautiful accidents meant to be.

Music BoX Ballerina

music box Broken ballerina

music box dancer

330

You already know your souls need. There are no obstacles but what you must leave behind, to acquire.

270

Of all the things you could see yourself becoming in life, has never any enthralled you so thoroughly as the idea of being an adventurer. With your all toward yonder fringe of Earth, – sustenance has always been in the going, and it never matters where.

245: Submerse

If you chance reside near the ocean, a shimmering freshwater basin perhaps, or some sparkling sky-blue inlet stream brushed with the green-apple tips of Willow that whisper in the Springtime breeze, and stir with timid charm the clear and delicious waters passing underneath through which the pebble floor and all animation of life therein is visible, into the shade of an Arcadian dale. Bubbling liquid of the purest dreamable state drawn and descended of lofty snow-laced spires which address the very cloud-scape grounds call angels home. Well, have you then at your grace, wanderer, a fount of the finest available natural sustenance known, and necessary wealth, of which you too are mostly comprised, sufficient in one gratifying instant of submersion to dissolve your cares and quicken the spirits there back to ambrosial health and exquisite humour. The holy sinking sensation of being one and relation to Nature, suddenly home and alive again.

155

What brings this burgeoning tumult of rapturous insight, the unknowable depths of which into it appears I have not so much fallen as leapt? Like a heretic sentry from his all-seeing, overlooking formation suddenly shot alive with option of startling contrary, and broken the spell of the deepest convictions of his identity; neither with the clearest rationale behind the impulse or its outcome concerned, perhaps thrice as bound by convinced he is not, and plummets so, individual.

Although I am already aware the dreadfully unavoidable truth of impact, if incompletely the origin of lure, – of what I ask myself most intimately regarding this strange new temptation that has never till now been attractive, I manage still to salvage some distortion to the facts as pleases but harmfully. As it is in the Nature of emotional pleasures, by instantaneity satisfied and begun so forth. And of this may I have grounding, but no immunity. Else I could temper my zeal to eloquence, and discourage the course of desire in the blood, that pools a conjuring of her reputation to my heart; might I know then a morning absent of mourning the memory of that split second of forever under the peaceable govern of sleep, near about the period, I estimate, to be the first stir of arousal, – with bursts and fragments of alert consciousness only afterward recognised to have been. All contained in the prior-hood of slumbers end, following which quickly realises that the world-stopping kiss that affects my awakening is in fact a figments wrath in dream. And each day thus begins in this deficit, perceiving a loss where does not truly occur, only ill value-judgements make it so. If It were instead, as palpable in advance, as it is plainly visible to sight, – some haze or flinched at heat given off from the coming fire, – the ruinousness and verity of my inventions mockery that am unable to affront quite so perfectly as I abide with curious abandon, I might then predict futility in hoping and the pain of its outrage with no need of the experience hitherto. Yet the source, I can apply no logic to solving that is not diluted by my biased inclination to the joyous feeling of anticipating what may be felt potentially, as persisted in so many decorative accounts thereof however much here is evidencing no prospects but of an upset. She has become a strife, this convenient apparition, by numbing the actual strife thusly that needs her. An illogical, circular, self-crafted, self-effacing system of nutritive ruin, to which yet as much logical, reasoned and sound remedy dresses equally resists.

Though I urge forgetfulness in me, or attempt to recollect that resilience of yesterday that perhaps shone in one brilliant moment of mindless tenacity, – rathering instead the composite mettle to withstand than to without, and no such stuff discovering in the face of inevitable consequence, is all too much for my strength to reason. For Reason her dear eyes bend, and apace have I gone already to bend a reconciliation for it.

98

Sincerely, I hope in my heart for that day not long from now, with dear children of my own and a contented soul for the scene. Then can I slip a moment unseen from the reverie, to my present self who could not such things dare perceive, and translate to him small relief.

94

Impose thy will upon each day; life will thy whims yield.

32

How lovely is, even the very word dream, that though one may but flirt across the outskirts of its cotton plains and candy fields, surely some scent of loveliness still sits upon the lapel, and joins thee a little further up the hill.

31

Living the life of your dreams is to live in such rapturous wonderment, having never to wonder.

16

I wish would you know the much you miss, and recall those curiously lavish ideas your childhood forgot, when wide with bewilderment fresh eyes would drink and drink, and no part of defeat would taint the nourishment. Estimate where now underfed you stand; how age has so dried the blood and plundered ambition from it, frighted most by the dream that most is needed. All the world for living is exhausted, and sighs a wilder yearning hurrying by an abundant week in baser duties to enjoy a restless Sunday, thus an exhale of precious life makes. I wish would you know the much you miss.