hold up partner

 A.J. Henderson

lives a very normal life

amigo,

tell me about the operation...

but first things first

double agents, agencies, rumors

relax,,,dont worry about the fate of the cash

CLANDESTINE OPERATIONS:

Val Avery is A.J. Henderson

tonight at 8. 

my baliset tells a story

 Hispaniola!

Treasure seekers needed.

Spanish nights under fiery red sunsets

Before we depart: good wine, passion,

tearful goodbyes from afternoon

sleeping in too late. Mi amor ' e sty

Lanterns aglow hanging mastheads

Ornate wooden galleons; 

We sail from port(s), Barcelona / Lisboa / to

the NEW WORLD.

Snacks provided, pack essentials.

Pistol, sword, carafe, bedroll.

Every adventurer granted amnesty

And a spot / held under review.

Proclaim allegiance

To the Queene, her highness,

Godess of the realm! 

Sincerely,

Ambassadore JCL 

signatore, notario, lothario, governo

humble servant,

deeply bowing

as the court jester 

comes on after the candle waxes / wanes. 

 (palace chamber raucous)

Two years later 

The sun shines in the same angles

But piled in the middle

Treaures of the nuevo tierra. 

new gen kick f ocks

 so humbling

Sz times

when life happens

At you, so silencing.

I remember moments

When for me  time stopped.

It stop

Tick tock

Rando. Chaos generator

Wafe in mud, be real

Never clean once you breathe

Air. 

Codex Anima Animus

 May 1st, plus an illegible year marker.

The reader assumes written sometime in

the 21st century from all the indicators.

 

 Along a wicked coast of

crags, teethy stones jutting sternly from

the depths of the yonder blue origin.

A human has taken a tome from a 

shelf inside an ancient keep. Its towers,

and walls, buttresses, gargoyles, courtyards, gardens, apiary, halls, barracks, temple, and library; all made of some unfathomable black rock (like an obsidian stone). Empty. They barely survived

the quest,                      And

In the light reflective of the surrounding country,

And ocean out beyond the structure glimmers

like magic. Many nights, by a fire, in some forest,

in some glade, under a canopy, out in desert wide open, meadow, swamp, by rivers, empty old cities beneath the stars, the universe,

and cosmos. Long had been this hidden journey.

Describe the current history of the world. And then 

the book inside claims a mystery.

The scars want answers.

So true, so funny, so fragile

How deep down always tough and some core

cellular sublimity. Plus more history...

The future reckoned that the past had been

a factor. Against the wall rested a long curved 

blade; its master read a forgotten language.

The story once upon a time ago.

 ‐---‐-----------Part ii-----------------

 The land of Aearth. A planet of bounty.

Environmental wonder a globe of absorbed

sunlight, worshipping particles and waves.

Jubilant with the forces of creation. Aearth rich, wealthy, so far gross measure of beauty scaled

infinite. To stand upon her and see her always, and the sunrise and sunset, the marvels of life at all the stages and in harmony. Imagine the sounds of the rainforest. Imagine the strange waters below. Fish that glow, whales that seem like time eternal beasts. Honey, bees, flowers, redwoods, all flora / fauna.

Woe was her demise. 

Our hero stops reading.

A memory.

During the journey, we came upon a place, so old it felt, and sheltered from all spaces.

(What about external authority?

For us, as people, was it simply always an idea?

How does language and forms level

the playing field?)

 Inside a globe, the shape of this

legend? 

Darkness pass brave adventurers,

Lonely do the watches wear, on

some core hope. 

 Some awful battle fell here, where friends

die. And deaths sorrow scars the memories

of the future. The darkness after is not

wrought of normal rules, like sun and moon.

Its a black that cannot be seen, only felt.

In that museum was left a lover and a friend.

(The reader in the keep gives great measure) 

 Journey's end, spiral clusters.

Act 1:

 

immortal silence

 i freeze and sing time

i feel time

stop time, try it.

time doesnt stop.

was there ever never time,

is the universe simply change? 

do the lonely stars 

flicker slowly out

and time keeps

ticking, in

total dark nothing

does death even know 

about time? 

these old bones

 too far to turn around

only bearing witness

to these old bones,

while water floods

the dams,

sitting at a wood table

wondering about the tree

it came from. 

worshipping the sun

amnesty and forgiveness

pile of sins

holy relics

far off hunger

weve stretched the distance.

all love made personal.

in the future

portraits on a wall. 

 

a pond by the sea

 even in the dark,

even in a loss,

even when the way

hurts and feels lost,

by the beating of the heart,

by the sound of song,

in the murky hope of future light

the resonant love around us

the feel of warm against the cold

someone slumbers somewhere

under cover, nestled close

from the box

hope remains

true and etched for all time.