The Ice Age

The Ice Age is a collage and story about the process of adolescence as well as only living through ones imagination and memories.

The narrative of the story is a young girl named December who's life has reached a halt and is now going through an ice age. December thereby only lives through her imagination and memories while trying to make out who she is and who she was before The Ice Age. She longs for The Ice Age to be over but is at the same time happy to be lying under the ice.

The Ice Age

Forming

When life seemed to have doors

Evaporating into another Antarctica

Are you by

Or just here yet

Sleeping inside the piano

Time

As the night bans the moon
And pearl phlegm runs through the ashes
I could not have known of the nothingness
Seeing the world end from my bedside

But form does the clouds
And I lie down
In scattered glass of talesa and imagery
It wasn’t what I sought after
But then again
Perhaps it was

In the water screen fluids

I rule the world from my corner
Say hello when I come again,

and smile to your night that loves and thrives
Far inside

They always arrive descending

Mirages we knew
And the mirrors that go hand in hand
With windows
Not always visible
But I could still see spiderwebs everywhere

The insects, mainly the wasps
Will follow you
And drink champagne
As the night falls over the sandbanks in Egypt
It was then that you realized

That the hidden secrets was not secrets
They were just hidden so that you would look for them
And think of them.

The January Sun

fumes
~ She moves just barely
But oh we all knew
You were so much
Stones and rocks of crystal
Are wearing you down now
But we can all see you clearly
Through the ice

You are a baby
And oil stars shine on you
Cry a tune
Eating gelatine
You could have sounds that you can't foretell
We lay in a bowl of broken glass
Not hearing ~

~The visiting Realms


Distances

August dreams

~

Honey sungirl Shelley you are

The only one
Give us candied comforters
Kingdoms in satin
And magic wands
Her dreams step down, maybe
The past is now
In sand and gold she's laying
While dreaming of an evening sun

Transparency

And raw semi sides as the night bans the moon-
Hear the lady of Sicily sing

In the victorian palace eastern wing

As plastic bags fly in the air invisible to apathic eyes

Swirling between the towers

As the paint on the walls inside are peeling

Horses run to the hills chanting

To the neverdying stars of a time ruled by selfmade Gods

When the ghouls are in a flap

And the king becomes a drag
There are no abstainers in a sighing world.

Morning awaits

The tales of hollow lands,

fields

In comatose hands

and freeze-framed vessels

My name was December

The hibernation

The well of transition

And the one loneliness union

There are sweet springs

I never saw

But cover your eyes

When in a dreamland sparks

The springs that never waited around, I would have

Laid you down on a thousand sheets

I am the horizon

And I am the swallowed ocean floors

I can no longer see the reflections of land

or vacant shores

impressions
And I ask myself how long, how long
The world is in between now
She's falling in dreams
Peering through evening clouds
Can you hear the birds now
As flying houses don't allow
Much of a crowd
I know he sleeps behind the moon
My emerald heart is glowing
And I ask myself how long, how long

. . .

The snow share stories

And seizures

The hours that survive

Are the glitters that glow the nights into pieces

And despite the mints of tomorrow

Cutting through the air

I keep waking up yesterday

But you see I've learned

To drown my diamonds and how to

crawl across the sky

The avenues inside are as endless

As the death of mine

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