Monday, October 24, 2005


niagara falling
leaves falling
czars falling
angels falling
dominoes falling
walls falling
stars falling
trees falling
pillars falling
hopes falling
wishes falling
like niagara leaves czars angels dominoes walls stars trees pillars hopes wishes
have I forgotten any
will I remember when wishes fall like niagara
when niagara falls like leaves
when leaves fall like czars
like angels
like dominoes
like walls
behind stars
behind trees
behind pillars
beyond hopes
above wishes


Marianne said...

Chestnuts are freetumbling from my chestnut tree. Hundreds of them. Well, they freetumbled. Now exist in the state of being freefallen. They did not, however, freestumble.

"beyond hopes, above wishes" - lovely - perhaps that is the state of freefalling transcended.

Larry Keiler said...

Now you are taking me back to early days when chestnuts were a favourite autumn pastime. They freetumbled, but we helped them along by throwing things (can't remember what exactly)up into the trees to shake loose the chestnuts. There were numerous theories as to how to harden chestnuts, and I would pester my mother to put them in the oven and bake them until they were like granite, then carefully pierce them with a nail, tie a string and head off to the chestnut killing fields. Your chestnut was only a loser once it detached itself from the string. I once had a champion chestnut for weeks (well, maybe days)but only because it was so battered and so tiny finally that it couldn't really be struck anymore. Any chestnut attempting to shatter that miniature marvel would only beat itself to death against cold hard pavement.

Marianne said...

Hey Larry, I wrote you a great big long response on chestnuts, but the automatic virus update kicked in just as I was finishing, and rebooted the computer, and all was lost... sheesh, I had so much to share with you. Ah well, in a nutshell... here it is.... a confessions of sorts... I love chestnuts. I love the sensual feel of chestnuts - okay, okay, this is getting weird, yes, but I love - on both a tactile and emotional level - opening up the green shell (when the nut is ripe, it splits so perfectly and easily in my hands - yin and yang pieces) and there is the nut within - the hard centre core - the jewelled heart of the matter. I love the colour of the inner nut, the deep glistening brown, and equally love the feel of it, the smoothness, especially when compared to the outer shell that I've just peeled off. The whole nut experience is womblike, well - a chestnut is a womb. Once in a while, I am delighted by the discovery that the shell hold twins, both nuts equally developed, and other times, the nuts develop unevenly, one twin larger, hogging all the nutrients (so much for compassion,huh?) and still other times, the second nut is shrivelled and undeveloped - sacrifices itself for the brother nut - lol - get my point? I really am nuts about chestnuts... opening a chestnut brings out something very primal in me... takes me down very quickly to some core instinct, some core satisfaction.... weird, huh? I admit quite openly, quite frankly, that I am truly nuts...

Anonymous said...

above, beyound, behind..

this places the soul in a place outside ego and survival.

there is survival and then there is living..both are important...

in living we may choose to lift up above earthly burdens