Correct Usage of Brain Matter

Pausing for a moment to watch the clouds drift by,

The pattern slowly untangles and the fog begins to lift,

Rays of metaphysical light brighten the landscape of the mind.

The race to die first loses its gravity as we dance our own patterns on the dusty earth,

And the horizon becomes a painter's pallet of colours.

Hue after hue of colour,

A landscape of eternity,

And I am forever lost in it.

Be yourself, if only for a moment;

Tomorrow has no recollection of today, and yesterday never existed.

Memories mingle and disperse, become one and the same,

And all things are remembered and forgotten simultaneoulsy.

It's a beautiful day for thinking.

By Ben Jones

Mathematical Inequalities Plagued By Infinities

Interpretation over intention.

x over y.

Negative integers.

Plagued by inequalities, still it vibrates onwards, oscillating in the ether.

Time flips on its head and reverses itself to reveal a new perspective,

And angles of perception merge to create one big illusion, greater than the sum of its parts.

Flowing as one, in unison, a small part of everything is revealed.

It's the little things that count.

The Moons Of Jupiter

Determined by the obstacles it faces, it finds itself confronted with a juxtaposition the size of it all, yet can't understand how little it means. Blinded by its sheer white brilliance, it confounds its own senses by proxy, and yet still the hammer does not fall. I told it to be careful...

The teardrops that fell from his eyes contained everything, and garbled mumblings found their way across the face of it; but never did I expect to find this here. It poked from the sand like driftwood, and I hauled out a spacecraft and a submarine; I suppose another trip won't hurt... if you look closely you can see the moons of Jupiter, when the wind is right.

Did you hear that? I thought I saw a flicker, a blip, a faultline... Don't be scared. We find ourselves and lose ourselves and find it is all one waveform we ride to infinity, and I felt myself falling through the clouds again. Did you hear that? A flame sparks in front of me, green and blue and gold and warm, and these icicles surround and encroach on me. I see that now. Cold like the touch of steel against skin, and warmed only by my own heart.

Never did I expect to find this here. It poked from the sand like driftwood, and I hauled out a spacecraft and a submarine; I suppose another trip won't hurt. If you look closely you can see the moons of Jupiter, when the wind is right...

By Ben Jones

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