“It’s hard to stop rebels that time travel”
Dimensionally, time is a series of frames; A series of ideas.
“Cos we represent a truth son, that changes by the hour and, if you’re open to it, vulnerability is power.”
If time was tangible, what shape would it take?
In between two rocks there is an ant. It seems isolated from the rest of the colony. As it oscillates between the two rocks searching for a scent that would show it the way home a stream of water comes by and washes away the rock, and the ant. Did it ever happen?
If that frame of time was held and looped like a gif would they show it on the intergalacticnet and laugh? Would it go viral?
If we find a way to capture healing into frames would we be able to share them? Would we be able to move from frame to frame in search of pieces of ourselves? In search of an image that looks familiar?
“these letters… correspond with something (I don’t know what) that you have written (perhaps as unapparently as that lemon corresponds to this piece of seaweed) and, in turn, some future poet will write something which corresponds to them. That is how we dead men write to each other.”
- Jack Spicer
We, who have found ways to send little love notes across frames. We, who have scoured the images. We, the rebels that time travel. We, those who find ourselves caught between time, and ways of being. Oscilatting between one rock and another looking for a scent. We, who have seen the loop, wait for the flood.
“And when it is all over
We shall once more inherit
A generation of cracked souls
For whom we must erect new monuments
anthems of praise and the eternal Hope of Life
beyond the recurring stupidity of war heroes.”
Post Note: My second chapbook, Time, is available from the Jeli here. This is not an excerpt from it. More like a bonus track.