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Throw The Dice

from CC​:​PP Episode IV by CC:PP

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Throw The Dice

I was walking along the beach thinking of Heisenberg's Principle, the idea of our atoms bombarding and affecting everything around us, about the effect the wind that was blowing on me could have as all the breath it carried from so many lives, past & present, blended with mine.
I was wondering, too, what more than its gritty grains the sand gave up to me, what it lost or gained as I dug my heels in, commingling the impressions, desires from every person that walked upon it before I did, wondering if we were always exchanging raw data - every second of our lives... wondering if I could feel someone else's kiss in the wind... and was mortified. I don't want to steal anyone's kisses...
Wondering about reliquary halls, and the essence of what we are everchanging and if we were always recombining with the world around us, are we who we think we are? Or is this constant state of flux a negation of our being?
I was thinking of love and the cosmos...
I guess I always am.
Always indulging a nation of images

I imagine I hear the moans of captive tides

being discarded by the wind

That same fickle wind

that blows through my hair as
the setting sun
lights the copper-fire

burning within each strand
of barbed wire that

assaults my scalp,

and in this dimming light

I begin to wonder and reflect on...
Why?
Why each frazzled tendril of mine fights

with a bloodlust, trying to secure its place

on my otherwise carefree head...
Coiled in constriction

with a tenacity that I (futilely) wish to believe

belies my nature -
- But I know what I am.
Don't I?
These follicles of mine are contortionists,

rebellious, desperate wantons

holding their fierceness with 
a tension never sprung.
Maybe my hair's prickly nature really expresses

my repressed desires,
my husband

says they are always unruly and tangled

because they love each other so much
that can't bear laying calmly apart.
It's a sweet thought, in a perverse way.
Is it my unsung cries of frustration

that tousle them in these moments of 
mid-January leaf-breezing?

The sky's combing teeth
grooming me...
but for what?
Only the wind knows...
There is something about walking 
along the ocean that always seems 
to untangle me --
leaving me sea-scented

and perfumed by an atomizer

of cosmic possibility.
Feeling that luscious honey-spill

of light rays and pachouli that calls to me

from the Crissy Field dunes every twilight

I know... I sound loopy...

But I like me that way.
I walk on the sand and consider

whose foot imprints flirt openly now

with my bare toes, leaving their

impressions on me in this giving ground

if I were to follow along some righteous man's path

will forgiveness for all my sins later be found?
Can I breathe in the lives of a million pasts

from one gust of air circulating all times at once

in eddy currents of despair, hope, love, hate?
Does sunlight teleport secrets in ionic exchanges

whispered in worlds unseen and unheard

by the seizures of man?
Is the who of what I am changing

as I rummage through the relics of sandy past?
As I shed cells & respire

into the atmosphere of Now,

does the air commit mitosis with me

in fulfilling some sated purpose

with a plan to form other beings

through the emissary of my essence ?
What creatures do we birth

from the expulsion of our dark matter?

And whose galaxies will they portend?

Are we the sun they orbit to warm their cold spots?
In our emergence with an impartial world, is there choice, or

do we unbecome to the pinpoint of what we are not?

Or are we not knotted to the what of the us?

Ego living on in the tensegrity of eternity?
This is all babble, but I'll go on.
I am just one big question mark all the time.

But I like me that way...
The Japanese rebuild ancient temples

plank for plank
as the old wears out 
to be borne anew --
rebuilding with 
the same tools
simple structures millennia old
Their history

A heralding

A visceral outpour

streaming in muscle memory,

The Past's gifts mine in the veins of minds.
Culture becomes ingrained.

Encoded in their people's DNA.
Using techniques preserved

lemony fresh, their elders 
and their elders elders live on...

their infinity blowing the sails of Theseus' ship...
The old is ever new --

this happens to me & you, too.

Our bodies rebuild us
cell for cell,

kiss by kiss,
year by year

Making all human beings

walking talking paradoxes
I wonder if we'll ever be able to replace 
a shattered psyche

Prosthetically?
If Captain Hook had two fleshy hands

would he be the same man

that tried to kill Peter Pan?
We can clone Mary's lamb 
with an eerie precision.
But why? 

Won't she only just lose him again?
Cybernetics promises eternal perfection

but do we then cause cellular insurrection?
How many nerves can we Xerox?

Will that actually make a man?
How will we ever know 
the damage we can do?
Frankenstein used sky's fiery cry

to make his Lazarus rise

from bits of Cain he was able,

but the gods threw him down a ditch
gave him the Old Scratch to itch
The Devil's in the details when a mad scientist 
gets hooked on a Faustian pitch:

Money back guaranteed or double your destiny...
The Gods don't like a gamble

Unless they throw the dice

They always make their point

That's why they live in Paradise

And if they let you roll them

No need to think twice

They'll be all 7's & 11's and

You can bet you'll shoot snake eyes
However I am the master of my own blue heaven

I could hitch another ride, that's true

But I don't choose to in a galaxy of possibilities,

my dice keep rolling your point.
I don't know what, why, how or who

All I know is I'm a Right Bettor

when the shooter is you.
If I took the memory of your kiss on my lips

And used it to light a sandalwood pyre

then kept the incensed ashes of our desire

faithfully in the Shari-den or maybe in a bell jar

would our love live again?
Or is that just another relic collecting dust

on the shelf of one possible Past's unworthy trust?
We are the reliquary of all that we are

We are the combustion of Life's lust.

Love isn't some option to be weighed

and meted out in careful measure

It is every particle accelerating in

this universe.
It is a must!
"This desperation

Dislocation

Separation

Condemnation

Revelation

In temptation

Isolation

Desolation

Let it go
And so fade away
To let it go
And so fade away
To let it go
And so to fade away...

credits

from CC​:​PP Episode IV, released July 20, 2015
Words & Voices - CC
Music & Noises - PP

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CCPP San Francisco, California

"The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related, that it is difficult to class them separately..."
Thomas Paine, 'The Age of Reason'

"Scientists believe that the universe is made of hydrogen because they claim it's the most plentiful ingredient. I claim that the most plentiful ingredient is stupidity."
Frank Zappa
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