Tag Archive: stream of consciousness


leaf

i had this idea for a stream of consciousness kind of Spoken Word vibe but written down with no edits and so what i am going to do in a moment is ask Facebook for a word to get me started – i will pick the third word suggested, whatever it is, and then come back here, write down that word as the heading and then flow a written piece with whatever comes into my mind and try and catch the rhythm of a spoken word piece and publish whatever comes out. No pauses. No edits. You’ll have to take me at my word on that, but here goes with Writken Word, first attempt:

CHEESE

Consider this if you will, as you open up the refrigerator of your soul and realise that there right at the back somewhere far in the distance, in places that you cannot even see any more there is the smell of something slowly and softly making its way towards you. As you peer more deeply in you are suddenly hit in the face by a giant wave of pungent odour that knocks you down, leaving you bruised and breathless as you lie there pondering what just happened on the floor. Could that strong smell be emanating from me you ask yourself but before you can reply there is the sound of a reverberation that begins within and threatens to force out the very expansions of every tendency within you to want to make sense of what just happened. You decide to wait, knowing that waiting brings with it the anticipation of the opportunity to try and make some kind of sense, find some meaning stop the dreaming that this must be. This can’t be real but yet you start to see the congeal that is setting in around the edges of your mind and you start to know, this is real. This is happening, this is now. And you are powerless to stop it or even to contain and so you let out a refrain with every process in your brain scrambling to undo that which has already been done so long ago and cannot be stopped now. You stop. And wait. And think. And listen. And suddenly the smallest smile appears at the edge of your mouth as you realise that this is not a powerless state of being, this is simply the past and it is vast and it stretches seemingly infinitely out, but as you turn around you see that the space in front of you is empty and ready and waiting for you to act, to live, to breathe, to create, to do. And so so leaving what is past and what may have been a disaster and what is trying to drag you back with its stenchy smell you set out anew on a new journey which is undiscovered country waiting to be a road less walked upon but by you. This is not a story that has already been written and is waiting to be rewritten. This is a new opportunity to paint to climb to fly to breathe. To be. And so you will be. And you will NOT be held back by what has already been not matter how badly it smells to you. No, you are going to seek out new smells, create new fragrances, be new perfumes to those you encounter from here on out. You will not forget the past, but you will NOT be contained by it.

[Word supplied by Jamie Rogers Gibson randomly on Facebook]

To fully appreciate it, i think it might help to speak out the words or at least mouth them silently to yourself as everyone in your office is starting to stare…

[For the next one i did titled COWBELL,  click here]

 

crawling through the desert on my hands and knees, torn jeans clinging desperately to my legs, shirt mostly in tatters, hanging loosely off my shoulders… eyes darting to and fro, hoping to catch sight of, a quick glimpse, the hint of, a water source, river, stream, oasis of sorts… some type of cactus with juicy flesh waiting for me to discover in its hidden caverns the satiation for my current devastation, even temporary relief for my present disbelief of the localised unbelief that seems to surround me on all sides, pressing in, trying to suffocate, attempting to deprecate, to abbreviate, or proliferate its… their, own sense of being marginalised, disenfranchised, tied up, held up, brought up, bought into sense of hopelessness, of clung to plausible deniability, of watered down potentiality… minimalistic expression of a far deeper, richer, more vibrant, on offer life experience that suddenly, once more, slaps me into wakefulness, renewing the drive onwards, pushing me further away from those who will contain me in their quicksand filled, undisclosed and scattered leftover buried mine encased mime constructed boxes of delapidated individuality brought about by the refined redefined personal definition of a wholly holy majestical greater power defined way of existing…

me, my, mine is the call of those who will fashion the path that has already been marked out for me by the One who Lovingly, and Loving me, took it upon Himself to walk it before me, leaving tell-tale signs along the way of His greater intention, His life-interrupting intervention that comes to me [did i mention?] as a whisper, as a quiet voice i can sometimes barely make out hidden in the backgrounds of a gentle breeze, a rapid flash of cover, a hint, a suggestion, a spirit-filled gut feel that points out, draws me out, calls me out, points me to, takes me to, makes me to… change my course, alter the discourse, discover the resource that already lies deep within me…

for history is not my story, it’s His story, but one in which He has invited me to participate, and regenerate, [dare i alliterate?] revelling in the revealing revolutionary revelation of His rambunctious glory, grace and gracious generosity. are you starting to see? will you align with me? but not dispassionately. i desperately and hungrily require some brutal introspective honesty. i am not looking for empathy. i need you walking alongside me. i’m not asking for another one of me. like some kind of test tube created science experimental experience of trying to mess with destiny. i am feeling a little alone here. so why would i be wanting a clone here? bump my head against another loner? i am asking for, appealing for, calling for, crying out for you. are you with me? i am wanting someone who has a hunger for more than games, who nurses a need for more than speed, who has a panoramic vision and life focus that is both from here and to eternity…

are you in? can i count on you? lean on you? walk this road with you? crawl through the desert on my hands and knees, torn jeans clinging desperately to my legs, shirt mostly in tatters, hanging loosely off my shoulders, with you? eyes darting to and fro, hoping to catch sight of, a quick glimpse, the hint of, a water source, river, stream, oasis of sorts… what’s that you see?

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