Big Jar Dreamer

Many ways to slice it,

Big Jar Dreamer

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

The big Jar was a dreamer he said without a doubt,

unmatched in all but thinking he was somewhere else.

Then it got the best of him one day the other week,

those around couldn’t pretend to know what went down.

Sprouting lilies as he was a nickel for a share of the dare,

laughing all the same when the sheriff showed his badge, 

he made spaghetti out of town and never looked back, still 

no word was spoken about whose wifes he’d been poken. 

As luck would have it they serve him up a spike, soon it

was turn in or take a hike. How they tell it now when Jar 

refused to come clean is with a wish to have intervened,

because what happened next was something no one had ever

seen. Loaded diamonds for eyes the dreamer gazed thunder, 

with a flick of the wrist their badges were stripped under, 

to where geese critique wakes and wax bellies with jellies, 

found on discrete display with berry unknown origins, their 

hands pat the fabric they hadn’t seen since service was sworn, 

stripped of sacred identities they dissolved to the realm of

forgotten memes to hang around and reminisce about 

bygone relevance. A chariot pulls up Jar staggers in, sirens

give way to night, no phone home in a red and blue snare,

the window reflects the cold steel around his wrist though 

he knows nothing of it, to Jar they are soft, pink, fluffy, and

full of excitement, like what’s in your head, merrily merrily

merrily…  

Stepping out from Dissonance

Temporary escape, we all desire, removing, drawing back, recharge, but we never leave this world.  True absence is impossible, even if you were to go to space someone would have to know you are there.   People populating profound products of their imagination, Particles exist in waves and as matter, a duality of a lunatic, or so it would take one to believe.  The imagination is everyone’s best friend and worst enemy, its free entertainment while laying on your bed, meanwhile it creates hideous monsters underneath that same bed.  Words roots our experience as they flow effortlessly after years of socialization.  Imagination uses these words to grab ideas out of thin air, or perhaps to change the wavelength of the particles in your brain to generate new thoughts.  Is there an idea field where all possibilities lie? Do we pick out knowledge and jokes one by one?  Is there a certain order of thoughts that unlock new ideas.  I think that would have to be the case, ideas build upon themselves, just as math does.  A foundation of knowledge is not necessary to understand a subject’s most complex spheres, but to understand how galaxies form you must have an understanding of gravity.   As we are beginning to understand the brain, we think that the brain is organized in this very way.  That the complexity of thought is correlated to the vertical neurological chain matching the very understanding that is necessary to move on to the next level.   Are video games just a manifestation of this inner workings of our brains?

Jab and jive tough to strive for what we can’t afford

Counter attack to we quickly react to those who shame us

Hand tightens vision focused, the thrill is in the moment

Energy of the day is put to rest with the sun but the struggle continues into the night.

Thank you for taking the time to read my unorganized thoughts.

Volcano