Sunday, August 09, 2009

In Michelangelo's eye

Carved from a single block of stone

Feinin rose from his sleep, in it he carried a boy somewhere across a land. The bus driver looked at him as he crossed the street into the future. Where are you traveling to my lord? The driver asked this of me. I looked both ways to see whether anyone was close by and said, I'm going to Heaven. The doors of the bus heaved, they bent putting pressure on the actuators. Feinin stepped back, the handle would not bulge open.

In Michelangelo's eye he saw a strange presence. He looked in awe and wonder. It told him to sleep and to forget thinking of me. Michelangelo once saw help in a pencil drawing of Feinin, the sculpture was ominously grand. He carved it from pure thought to what he would have liked. The healthy warrior rested on a long couch, he exposed every curve of the masculine. He wore nothing but a loin cloth which covered what Michelangelo peeked as his crown. The phallus he thought was a marvel, it took him places far and beyond the word. God, he thought should not be offended, God gave it as a gift to cherished the meaning of life. As the warrior peered into the matter, he placed his palm over his right eye and watched with his left. God awakes; My word, my choice of things brings me news of worth.

Michelangelo never confronts beauty as he so does in his fellow, it warned him too that the sacredness and knowledge of the unknown was tempting. Feinin to him was a servant of an almighty being, he looked different over the centuries of recognition, but a flower, tree and the sky looked the same.

Gulliver woke from his sleep, he noticed that the spider had spun threads of silk from his eye lids to the plateau, The beads that clung to the strands were of salt. Inside the tear,the horizon was blue, the albino dolphin skipped across it in two semicircles. He peered at his place of birth. In the droplet, he saw masqueraders, glitter and banners once again,. The carnival staffs read, cherished him for he is that of truth...

Gulliver pulled at the web, it stretched not releasing him. God watched 40 degrees, 10 minutes.... Gulliver, stand as a man today, give not worry to them. Talk firmly, smile blissfully. Gulliver echoed, I AM NOT AFRAID, the mirror on which he stood, shattered. The shards fell into the abyss of hell. Gulliver vanished

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