h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Chapter One

The journals of an almost young poemseeker ...

A NDE (Near Death Experiment) in word ... and quite a lot of dots ......

Herewith the dust and dandy of all my criss cross ways ...

These are my brain windmills as they spin (unedited) through dream diagrams......

This are my in the brain-fields of sunhaze yellow June light ...


a congregation of entities ...

a strange low humming in the bones of the window pane ..

my new maps .. my yowl and my yay !

my inspiration and delicate survival on the stage of this theatre of (so-called) worldliness, which attempts to spike me with its tired and oh so weary rituals of hate and its definitions of order....

and that other worldliness ! that wonder-worldliness !...which infuses me with its silken bewildering beauty and its tapestry of ineffable and breathless vibrations of holiness in the joyzone ..

Chapter Two

NDE

And also and also and also this ....

All these growling prowling days in the masterpiece of Lionland ..

All these invitations from The Muse to live again in the liquid rhythms of No Exit (7) ..

'Chaos Inexpressible' you say to me, as we cruise through the endless urban tunnels of the Northwest Dream-Sector ....

Where the Magik-Angelo graffiti galleries melt into the wide wide awesome eyes of the Dangerbug that is scuttling through Purple Cubes ...

And yet ... despite the heavenly exotica all this outlaw ingenuity ... I see behind mine eyes ten billion babywing cartoon cherubs fluttering and flitting through the Kingdoms of the Newzone ...

and a peculiar inncence pervades my veins ...

some call it Pax ....

(I call it Afterlight in the Afterlife ....)

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please send me extra dots .... or lists .. or scraps of missing dream symphonies .. or fragments of stamp collections .. or insect photos .. or Mexican shrines ... or your own halleluyah footprints through the dust and the trust of it all ...

or knock me (gently) on the head with a pink ice cream cone, and send me to the beach ..

hey ...



Helen

to be continued .. despite ...

A butterfly dreaming of being a person in a crysalis...nice to hear from you...Some grafitti...

http://good-times.webshots.com/slideshow/559198917dBVMWB;jsessionid=abcjdlxsBkmSThhDaNvmr

And a few spare dots..........Please use them only to do good.......

A dream...we walk into a deserted Greek Temple on the seashore. I leave her to look at another building. The way back suddenly changes into a roped-off maze filled with people impeding my progress. A large man deliberately blocks me. I break his nose with my elbow and push though the crowd. The temple has changed into a magnificent casino. There is no hope of finding her in the crowd...

Bonk wakeup!
Bonk wakeup!
Bonk wakeup!
Bonk wakeup!

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hah ! yay ! ... of course of course .. not alone ....

what about this then, journal-mate .. a gallery of dream and dot before mine aching eyes ....

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little pieces of gallery and photo-splendour ......

Chapter 3

(Life's Work .. uncut .. )

Considerations on The Ace of Inner Space ....

You know those times when you feel like you just need to launch yourself into some kind of mystery magnet space vibration ... flipping and somersaulting over and over .. like one of MC Escher's Curl Ups ...

..................... (nice dot stash ...)

and then you suddenly go oh tikki tikki tikki what have I done now ... I'm all alone here .. a little phantom swirly thing in the middle of a Zero .. like the big Zero, you know .. That Zero ..

and then you see all these other somersaulting entities around you ..

all the thought vibrations and patterns and ideas and inventions ... all the braindust of all of history .... all lit up .. like that phosphorescence that Phred saw that time, when he was diving through that bioluminescent plankton ... ...

and the spookoid bits as well .. little spiky entities ...nipping me right in the dangerzones ... wrapping me in their sticky psychotic tentacles ..

and I know I'm not alone ...

and then to deal the Ace of Inner Space.....



Chapter 4 .....

the Ace itself ...

what now then, journal-mate .. I'm not qualified to speak of Love .... .. oh yes I have loved and I do love .. but I am way too green .. how shiny is that crazy light of Compassion's stare ! .. such bright delight in its dangerous demands .. oh no .. I am not qualified to speak of Love ...

Chapter 5 ....

but for now ....

poemseeker ! on with the fragments ! let the galaxies swirl around me ! not alone .....completely out with the mushroom faeries, but not alone !

MC Escher's Curl Ups ... or "Pedalternorotandomovens Centroculatus Articulosus" ..as he titled them .... (fact)

The Cure of Innocence seeped into my veins along with a near fatal snake bite ... (start of dream-prose-poem)

<<>>>

El Duende .. (that curious energy of inspiration that seems to come from nowhere) http://www.musicpsyche.org/Lorca-Duende.htm

what about El Duende then, journal-mate .. and Lorca ...

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end of transmission .......................

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Add these few dots to your stash. You never know when you might need them. If you run out, please let me know--I still have some.

hah .. a dot shipment ! thankyou Lady C ...

nice to have the dotted line .... to fill in the gaps .........somewhere between the dark zoom and the red neon melting stripes of rain in the Avenida del Sagrado Corazon ... ........




trouble with writing my Life's Work ... is that ..........

A)it'll take the rest of my life .........and I still won't have written it ....

B)it keeps breaking out in weirdness ............randomly straying from the Design ....

..... I think I might have to intervene ...

or retire .....

over and out ...........

But it's wonderful, magical weirdness.

I, on the other hand, am totally brain dead at the moment.

Does it matter, when we're merely spiders climbing up the drainpipe of life toward the light at the end of the tunnel?

What about dashes, Cactus? They are a bit more jarring, but quite in effect.

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(I was feeling generous. That should put me out of dashes for the rest of today at least. )

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.

*THWACK*

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.

*THWACK*

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.

*THWACK*
...

...

...

...
[vox basso profundo:] Carbolundrum!

Almost anytime you go 100 feet down in the ocean at midnight with no moon and turn off your lights and wave your hand you can see millions of little sparkles from Copepods perhaps practicing predator evasion...lots of firelies here this time of year...a few lonely ones still futilely blinking at 3 a.m...confusion to our enemies?...a species recognition signal?

...they aren't talking...

...just blinking...

OK .. so check this out then journal-mate ! .. you are being visited by presences even while I do lay me down to sleep ...

lucky journal !.... your pages do rustle with Duende ...

vox basso profundo ! -------- dash dash dash ----------

!!!! ////// and the Zero is the dot of the question mark .. ??????????

OK ...

Chapter Six .... surrender ! ....

OK words .. fly where you like .. I try to design you on the page .. and you just fly off like a swarm of bees ...like a word swarm ...spiralling up off the page .. and land somewhere else ... all buzzy buzzy and upside down .. locusty things ...

go on then .. watch me puzzle over your mysterious indexes !..

have your way then wordy words ! burn me and turn me if you must !

just as long as you yearn, little wordy words .. just as long as you always yearn .....

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fizz of beauty in the sludge and segment ! .. in the sweat-tangle jangle ... ----- (dash dash) ..... (dot dot ) cupcake ....

in the dark and the spark of the zoom and the tomb .. in the stuttering surrender of my drift .... my Inky Insecure ! .. in the Lupo and the Lamb and the Leap of Springtime ..



and where will you go, oh words, in devastation's terrible terrible slash and starvation ... in the wince of hungry eyes ... so many eyes .. a world of eyes ! ... where will you go then .. how will I shape you and know you ..



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hullo phosphorescent firefly truthdiver ..

H ..............

I knew a fishmonger named Mattasini...he wanted a computer to keep track of his fish because his friend Tony from Sicily had a computer with a fish program....he showed me his little shotgun with the flared barrel that he kept under the counter for the ****** (bad word)...he brought it from the old country...he called it "El Lupo"..."Make hay while the sun shines" was his advice to me...Hay???, I thought???

Fish?! I thought.

hey said the hsif ...

hey said the fish ....

hey said the and swam into the pink and turquoise flashing bits of its memory ..

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And I think of you everywhere
See you in leaf
in your necklace of moonstones
you bought from a thief
And I hear you in fountains
so raging and wild
with your black silken shirt
and the stare of a child
I think of you now
drinking coffee at Joe's
watching thieves in the avenue
nobody knows
that I see you in moonstones
my black silken grief
like the rage of a child
at the death of a leaf
so I wait by the fountain
my shirt is all torn
and Joe's serving coffee
on Avenue Dawn ...............

tbc .....

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have a journal-mate .. this one could go on for a while .. ... no return ticket .....

chapter 7 (uncut)

and words buzz around me
they swarm in my head
they drown in my wineglass
and crawl on my bread
I am falling through zeroes
in harlequin rhyme
I am beauty's disorder
an error in time
you forgive me with daisies
in meadowland pure
and I starve in the temple
in search of the cure
and I murder my fight
with a dagger of pain
so you mix up my tears
with the blood of the rain
you are kiss of the butterfly
secret of rune
I am bird in the guise
of a mythical tune

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tbc ...

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... I'm leaving you journal-mate .. tomorrow .. for some days ..

how will I live without you and your mysterious interactions .. I think I might have to take you out on the road .. magic theatre wakes again ..


Actor 1 ......and where will you go, oh words, in devastation's terrible terrible slash and starvation ??.........(intense pause)

Actor 2 ...... I knew a fishmonger named Mattasini...he wanted a computer to keep track of his fish because his friend Tony from Sicily had a computer with a fish program...............

(enter a lot of yellow fish and a pink and turquoise flashing light .. )

^^^^^^^^^^^^

see what I mean ?

or this .........

Actor 1 .......What about dashes, Cactus? They are a bit more jarring, but quite in effect...

Actor 2 ....... Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.

*THWACK*

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.

*THWACK*

Actor 3 ..........lots of firelies here this time of year...a few lonely ones still futilely blinking at 3 a.m...confusion to our enemies?...a species recognition signal?

they aren't talking...

...just blinking...

......

Actor 4 ..... Add these few dots to your stash. You never know when you might need them. If you run out, please let me know--I still have some .........

Actor 5 .....Chapter Six .... SURRENDER !!! ....

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oh beauty ....

conclusion: .... oh beauty ... please forever infest my soul .... (I mean it ... ) thankyou .....

/////////////////////////////////////Bonkwakeup!

I walk on the edges
You offer me drink
I am thirsty for questions
You help me to think

And I wait at the mirror
To check out my mind .......

tbc ... to be (dis)continued ....

H

..... and the world said ...

<<<>>>

take a bow, creatures ..

End of Act One

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Act Two ... A Preview

Interesting. Helen will almost certainly grapple with the demons of poetry and go on quite a lot about life in Inner Space ...

As for the others .. hmmm .. hard to say. Unlike Helen, these are people with lives, places to go. The road can take them anywhere. We see them when we do. A rare treat.

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The inner space is well illuminated by a candle. Better yet, a gregarious swarm of love-bug fireflies.

El Sol takes care of the outer space.

Inner space can be scarier than outer space.

Makes and settles in to wait for Act 2.