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ENTER THE PHOTOGRAPHY GALLERY
June, 2010
Los Angeles, California
In through my ears and into my mind
the mockingbird sings
and in my hearing there is a river
into and out of which he dives.
On its banks he becomes a bird
his feathers fluff and gleaming.
In the current
he becomes a thought
as changeable as his song.
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All is gone but essence
and I will have no fear.
I will open my mouth
and words like fire will come
to burn this demon's wings to white.
Bright I will burn this demon down to its angel bones
and from the sulphurous flesh's ash will wind a fertile vine.
Then, in the springtime of my aging,
once the vine has thickened to wood,
when the waxing crescent moon is ripe
at dusk will come a flower bright
like mercy,
white as silk.
A window, a mirror,
pregnant and essential.
A single flower, perfectly
reflecting all I am.
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Consider this: synaesthesia
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Go to SONGS to read some songs from the good long road
Go to CONNECT to send gregory a message or to sign the guestbook.
Go to WORDS to read writings on community, society, spirit, Earth and future
Go to JOURNEY to see the incomplete and infrequently updated archives of this site.
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The Guestbook is back! Please sign it. Use it for comment, conversation, information, invitation, poetry, promise and threat.
THIS ENTIRE SITE AND ESPECIALLY THE PHOTOGRAPHY GALLERY IS still BEING REVISED AND THEREFORE WILL BE WEIRD FOR AWHILE. BUT WHEN IT COMES BACK IT WILL BE b e a u t i f u l. Am I lazy or am I sane? I am not sure but I am certain that I do not like to sit in front of this insidious screen and do mindless photographic processing.
Please check back later. Here's a new preview of the way the new gallery will look...
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