smell of something fresh.

a photo of a full moon near lake powell, utah [by amiran white],
heavy with silent splendor, is enough to remind one of the vast unseen out there; earth’s own creations.

the unapologetic acridity beneath a solemn eye on a blank blue canvas
also reminds me of the moist lushness of northern laos, another side of the earth pregnant with green and wet blue.


[?.]
they look like they belong right there, in the warm stream of the earth. have we forgotten how it feels like- to have water, wind, air, the fire of the sun’s heat sculpting and reviving our tired urban-clad form?


[vang vieng. namkong river?]


[vang vieng. main street artery]
as if man decided to roll out a carpet for his urban plans and worldly games.


[luang prabang. a nuns’ temple at the top of some hill]
beauty within sanctified grounds; both plant and man (or in this case, woman) pointing to something skyward, more spiritual.

[+ 091207]
sometimes we’re reminded of our place in certain hierarchies, especially of the larger scheme of things. listen to this song- it says, “first was the earth, then men.”

well, we all like a good song which is almost uncouthly direct, and unabashed. here’s one singing an awe-struck ode to what must have been a bloody amazing sight of:

these fucking mountains,
white tipped with snow,
cold- blooded colossuses,
electric headstones
stab ferociously
at the lions of these giants.

this impenetrable darkness,
this brooding gloom,
inhaling, exhaling
its native suns.
it breeds gloriously,
needs no illumination
in the wilderness.

this fucking carpet
looks like the sea.
it rolls and sways uproariously
with the trampling of feet.

emperor penguins
and your marriage ceremonies
confound the wilderness
of the mountains

whoa ooh
bababah ooh babababah

this fucking mountain
by the unreliable narrator

[http://www.saidthegramophone.com/archives/celebraate.php .]

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