rewound world 6: improbabilities

Previously on the rewound world: noble Deirdre, overclocked Ada, angel-phobic Paulo, and the irrelevant John P and I were crossing the Nullarbor plain seeking a bright earthstar (not the fungus), with little action and a lot of reminiscing. The first episode is here.

We walked beside the sunset to where
our newer dreams were waiting,
and Ada shared a little deprecated data.

I remember yesterday, when minds and houses
both had walls, when something was achieved
by doing something else, she reflected,
before our faded world was defined
by archaeologists 
seeking to confuse
their pasts with mine.

Before anyone could ignore her,
sundry birds of sand rose into the sky
to meet the higher wind, and the falling sun
made birds of its own: anaemic lemon yellow
with their ray tails streaming linearly behind them.

You see? Do you see
what I cannot fathom?

John Pessoa, an extra from another story,
adverbed apprehensively, because the birds
of sun and sand, the flocks caught in the wind shears,
were well beyond all sense and reason.

But a moment later, he understood,
because he himself had decayed to birds,
and all were gone except for tiny fluffy feathers,
the kind that cling in electrostatic weather.

Tweet twoot, dear John, hail and farewell.

~/~

At the true first next early sunrise,
I saw three bedroom windowpanes of air
(I, the writer) in a roaring weft of wind,
and I knew I had to stop.

Precipitation of my own existence
could only lead to decohesion.


to continue

about

Ada is also a computer language.

People rarely disintegrate into birds, and it has never happened to me as far as I know. However I have spotted two Buff-banded Rails (origin unknown) in my backyard. They are birds that like weeds and long grass, so I don’t plan to do any mowing. Note: this is not an excuse for laziness, at least not a good one.

artwork
improbable planet, made with VEE the visual evolution engine, artworks at Artxio, an online art market based in Sydney.

16 thoughts on “rewound world 6: improbabilities

    • Thank you, Sobhana. I was thinking about what sensory experiences we accept and appreciate and those we might fear. Yes, if another onlooker can confirm that they’re real, that you are not alone, it is a relief.

      One piece of advice given for Buddhist meditation, where one might have visions created by the quiet mind, is to accept them without fear. (They come about because the brain itself creates new synaptic connections after about twenty minutes of calm in an effort to get something happening 😸.)

      Liked by 2 people

  1. I like the bike in the video, a calming visual with the air of fossils. The poem is a welcome antidote to a rather crushing reality though it is getting harder to differentiate between fantasy and it’s “opposite” these days. Highly enjoyable.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you, Paul. Yes, reality is completely unbelievable. The rusted bike on top of the rusted Volkswagen is cropped from a photograph I took last summer. Later they vanished from the street, and I never saw the owner of the vehicle. I do not know what planet she or he was from.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve never seen anyone turn into birds before. I thought I was turning into a mummy a time or two, but it was simply some cats sleeping around me pinning me under the covers – something of an anticlimax. This is an interesting installment.

    Like

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