There is a disparity in my light Clarity, I've learned, doesn't guarantee a smooth landing. While the core recalibration manages the internal mechanics, you eventually have to look back out the window and confront the destination. Looking for a new perspective and a striking contrast to normalised assumptions, there is an abstraction to sort through. The abstraction gives way to a jagged, real-world landscape. As the light of intention widens, the splitting of the universe is somehow centred. On one side, there is a blinding, geometric clarity . The sharp, glowing decisions are on the horizon. It slices into deeply set teal patterns of clinical acceptance. It is the architectural precision of a fully realised destination that is cold and uncompromising. On the other side of the divide, the residue of regret refuses to be neatly filed away. They are vibrant, bleeding magentas and crash heavily like a restless king tide that refuses to stop. This is the whole of me. I carry...
The Ethereal Ascent The air in the room is violently still, creating a heavy pressure. She has long stopped looking at the clock, realising that time here is not a sequence but a weight. The waiting room has fractured; the mundane reality of plastic chairs and linoleum flooring splinters into a jagged, stained-glass fever dream. High-pitched frequencies of burning red and sickly blues vibrate as if hardened walls, echoing the frantic noise of a mind that has run out of distractions. Every sharp edge of colour feels like a spiritual siege, a sensory reminder that her momentum has been forcibly halted. There is no use in pacing. There is no use in resisting the authoritative hand of the "in-between." To survive this stall, she must stop fighting the current and become part of the stagnant water. She looks out, as if just awakened, and does the only thing left to recollect. She breathes. She waits. She waits for the shards to align once more. Be Creative and Innovative wit...
I am sealed in this capsule The transition from the static concrete of that waiting room to the pressurised cabin of this jetliner changes the entire physics of my wait. I’m no longer pacing floors or slouching into plastic seats; I've been sealed inside a capsule, and soon to be hurtling through the sky toward China. Now that I'm finally buckled in, my restlessness hasn't disappeared, but at least I’ll soon gain altitude. I look around and can see exactly how this emotional shift plays out in other lives. There is an initial sense of order and quiet relief. I see the neat rows of seats, the soft symmetry of the aisle, and the steady, reassuring presence of the flight attendant, offering the illusion of control. The ceiling washes into soft, atmospheric blues and teals. I imagine the sky outside. I can feel the collective breath of a hundred passengers all transitioning into the same forced pause. For a moment, my world feels structured, clean, and neatly aligned. I know ...
It is raining in Taipei (A Jazz Ballad for a Warm Rainy Day) Left my umbrella folded, didn’t care Stepped into a street that shimmered everywhere Neon bleeding red and green Where the wet world makes a mirror of everything Some dressed in a ghost-white cape Life slips on by—no honk, no haste Just the rhythm on the awning And the smell of Taipei in the rain Oh, rain on the asphalt, warm and slow Where the city leans in soft and low No place to go, nowhere to be Just the rain, just the rain, just the rain and me And when I dry off and turn the key I won’t remember what I saw, you see I’ll remember how I slowed enough to feel That surrender is the only thing that’s real Shhh… just the rain… Mmm, just the rain. Yeah. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger , YouTube , Flicker , Facebook , Instagram and Deviant Art . Subscribe to JJFBbennett's private ...
Comments
Post a Comment