If one visualises intensely, a sentient version of rhythm is experienced.. in a stained glass payne…
The experience echoes fluctuations in perpetual movement, perceptualise this arousal; A performance perhaps of side to side. Rhythmically orchestrated.
Multiple levels of dips arises on this steady motion, while the slightest sways promote a constant rhythme of pronounced motion over the course of impaired balanced. However the locomotion is experienced as a gentle rhythm, complimenting the mechanics of our biology. An evolved super- registered sophistication and perhaps “updated version” ?
Swaying in a subtle guise, a gentle inclination and a thought in a particular documented environment.
Of crowded spaces, other times the contrary. Often a slight bump of crowding, pleasantries and fermentation, textures and moisture.. Obscurity mixed with insecurities?
Perhaps a slight motivation provided a synopses in the glare of a stained glass payne… The looking payne?
Forced one to lean their form, against the metal hinge of the old door frame..
Respite from the Jerks of falling. Hopefully we have not yet fallen on the path least favoured, be that, of the floor?
Noticed the stains of smudges, dirty fingerprints amongst debris upon the square Payne door..
Imagine the bereavement of the one who’s task was made, attempting to clean this daily chore
No, not a feature I would relish much with either love of chore nor dispiriting flaws.
Memories of a cat hurrying across a floor impeded the moment, A sudden deprivations, this momentum skewed the present thought.
Time to hurry… specifically.
The hordes of commuters…
Staff, professionals, students, catalyst of their destinations. Their synchronisation, ritualistically transporting their private cargo to and from..?
Tendencies galore; Private and personal, the episodes of poor idiosyncratic.
The epicentre for anything of nursery…
Habitual affairs.. thus; Que, a long reminiscent gaze is disturbed by an immediate instant, thus ; Realisation,
Perhaps, post abnormal reflection arouses the ambient senses.
A taste of a moments breeze, not quite fresh air, a mixture, the wind appears broken and spoilt, of stale particles these are shared equally to all attendees. First come are served the same.. little longer, little use?
Manufacture the modern circulation-vent system. Gla gla be the echoes of throat clearing in the immediate surroundings.
Sombre at first for so longing, in the distance.
Conversation is slightly heard at the intervals. Concessions for the empty and unaccepted. The weary are unappreciated, often full and inebriated, many empty yet still forlonged
Greyish : Advanced… Stained glass paynes, finger-prints, hair, specs of saliva, lip gloss, Journey velocity against a tiny flea remains sticking to the payne.
The squashed debris of a fly with the wing in perfect tact.
Plus, intriguing fluescent lip stick smudge, remnants of old discarded food, breathe, tissue, fungus, dna, bacteria… and habits.. thereof
All this, contribute to the participants of a watered journey.
A little etching and words of graffiti
Dust… a different world..
A separate world..
Yet, the same for sure.
Brought to you by the poet otherwise known as the artist aka… K Aliy ®️
Titled : “Vanguard” ©️