Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Lift up the anchor, drift me away from this land

The owl and the scroll of fortune

The dolphin realized that the boat's mooring left Gulliver angry. She also suggested to the Owl that the time was right to continue his journey. The anchor which she had plowed hooked onto a timepiece, a small clock that measured the emotions of the heart. Each beat drummed a different beat, each cord pucked a different tune.

Gulliver wiped his tears, they dropped softly on his clothes then trailed onto his body. Each tear it seems carried an emotion which Hieronymus Bosch projected. Love is never missed when love never exists. Bosch concurred that his painting spoke of a dream like experience, and that he loved to explore the human temptations, namely the deadly sins of man. Gluttony was top on the list.

Gulliver's tears continued to roll, they trotted over a man he thought he could spend his whole life with. The man knew better, he knew never to separate truth from truth, love from affection. The tears that splattered on the floor measured time, the ducks that flowed, ceased.

Schiller reads: These are not Pharaohs, these are Gods of time

The dolphin clapped her flippers, she spouted water like a mushroom. The mushroom looked looked a tree, a tree that gave beauty and the abundance of life, over and over again.

...This flute you speak of, who follows its tune?

Schiller confronts Imhotep: My joy comes to me over you (spoken in Greek) this I see with my eyes, its irks, for you send me over in distance far from my birth. How I believe, now that (spoken in French / Italian /Spanish) is God. I bury your secrets with vengeance and fascination

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