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Positive Feedback ISSUE 4
december/january 2003


A Concrescence of Sense
by Laura Lovell


What heaven threw down at dawn
Gathered early at the speck of dusk
Sunset fingered at the clouds
Dabbed the earth with golden rust

Thrown down, She draped him here
Suspended here on invisible hook
slight shift of tribal twilight
It slightly trembled and lightly shook

The inventions that forced the brain of prediction
The mamboed madness of mirth
Capacities pushing and pulling at mainstreams
Traipsed across the fertile earth

Brilliancy tied to distant stars
Tethered to chromospheres
Rhythms clenched tight between smiles
Once dead men waken to hear

Forked figments of foresight
People and reactions fluttering
Upsetting ears and ordinalities
Sending endless circuitries Futtering

The Children of the Committees
Of the Administrations that protested WHY
These were the ones to find laughter
While Yodels were framed by the sky


The waves of the music believe
The light to awaken itself
Believing the waves of music

I awaken to myself

The light that eluded me plays
In death, is how pure that I hear
The illusion that regards me now
The unsacked eye, now the ear

Rocked Gently in crescendoing cradles
Striation of cross-banded beams
From tip of tooth to fingernail
The Blues and the Jazz and the greens

The vibrations of waves weave in
Through music's unended depths
Etched behind silver encodings;
Death's so much more pure for the breath

Tinges of this place
Between the tastes of the true
Tangles through reality slipping
The push and the pull of the blue


The landing in the last moments
The bump and the shudder and whoosh
Gearing up, cycling up then down
Cattled off in a line we are pushed

This last hour seen through unclouded eyes
This last life's gift is so clear
The Sharp and the Vivid sights sounding
I sense now the closing; no fear

She pushed and pulled at my soul;
The way I lived is my fate
Swooned and swept up by spheres
I laugh as I dance by her gate

Dust to Dust to DUst to Dust to Dust