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"Even sleepers are workers and collaborators in what goes on in the Universe." - Heraclitus, 'cause we're all made of stars, And she was moving very slowly Rising up above the earth Moving into the universe, Hoover moover, Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes They call me on and on across the universe, Let me become part of a book. . . . an intertextual being: a book cyborg or considering that books aren't cybernetic- perhaps a bibliorg, Loud like . . ., Our consonants spun and squealed- rattled faster- hesitated- raced harder- syllables soon melting with groans or moans finding, purchase in new words- or old words- or made-up words- until we gathered up our heat and refused to release it- enjoying too much the dark language we had suddenly stumbled upon, These clouds we're seeing They're explosions in the sky, your favourite
Tin Can Communication — Heart to Heart by Esmeralda Cloud
The first blast came from nowhere,
To her heart . . . and to her hands.
Hands that touched his,
Palm to palm, finger to finger.
Every digit leaning gently upon the others,
Melding a small cache
Of electric, eclectic synapses
Softly between them.
Yet it came as no surprise –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
The first blast came from somewhere,
In his heart . . . and in his hands,
Hands that touched hers,
Palm to palm, finger to finger.
Every digit leaning gently upon the others,
Melding a small cache
Of electric, eclectic synapses
Softly between them.
Yet it came as some surprise –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
The initial pillows of the explosion
Were numb with silent, sonic, relinquishment.
It blasted them light years apart . . . apart.
Apart from one, singular golden thread:
A chain of tenacious fire which endured;
Linking, binding. Holding fast.
Continuing the continuum, palm to palm,
Stretching out across vast, immutable distances.
At first of space,
And then later, time –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
Together, yet alone, they hurtled backwards,
To be caught warmly, effortlessly,
By personal terra firma of autonomous worlds:
Comfortable fields of bright corn,
Arm in arm with solid landscapes of contentment.
And so it came to pass,
That the universe and its incalculable, enchanting
Dimensions were countless aeon away.
Yet the swirls on their fingertips tingled,
Mourning their loss, and reaching for the stars;
Every morning when they awoke,
And again, every evening, before they slept,
Falling into the arms of Morpheus –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
Upon each diurnal course their planets revolved;
The cogs of every hour rotated.
Ticking, tocking, clicking, clocking, onwards.
Decades, then centuries, burgeoned with life’s roller-coasters;
The pages of each life turned, emitting
Joys and happiness, loves and fears
For those who lived.
Tears and heartache
For those who died.
Passions, curiosities, trials, guiles and smiles,
All ensconced firmly within their hearts.
Ticking, tocking, clicking, clocking, onwards –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
They died, and were reborn:
In multifarious myriadal, twisting times,
Beyond quantification.
Different lives; differing planets;
Alternate worlds; alternative dimensions.
Male or female, alike and unlike alike.
Aeons arose and insouciantly passed,
Yet still, regardless of time’s toll,
The chain of fire between them remained;
Its warm glow oscillating back and forth in animated, rapacious pulses –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
The fire burned them painfully at times.
And so it was that measures were undertaken:
He took a blowtorch to his end of the chain,
She an angle grinder to hers.
In fervid despair, they, in turn, had tried
Hammers, sickles, gelignite, flint and steel,
Hatchets, guillotines and pick-axes,
Chewing and stretching, gnawing of teeth,
Acid baths, anvils dropped, dynamite, grenades.
In fact, the whole cartoon’ish caboodle of ACME warehouse
Weaponry was wily waved and yet . . .
All to no avail – the chain remained just as it was:
Immutable. Perpetual.
And elements of their souls were relieved –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
Sometimes, within certain lives
One would twang the line,
Causing untold vibrations to electrify with joy,
Or dampen the other soul’s heart.
Sometimes, the other would do just the same.
And this was welcomed,
For it conjured pockets of remembered smiles;
Times when the stars waved at them as they flew,
Through the night skies with pounding, childlike hearts and eyes –
It was, as it had always been, forever and a day.
One day, when innumerable aeons had passed,
And they were both distant copies of their original selves,
A spontaneous contraction of the chain occurred;
Like a cord shuttling back into a cosmic vacuum cleaner,
And BOOM!
Suddenly there they were once again;
Heart to heart.
Hands touching hands;
Wrinkled palm against palm;
Aged finger to finger.
Every digit leaning gently upon the others,
Melding a small cache of electric, eclectic synapses
Softly between them.
One set of murky cataracts
Gazing into the other’s.
Toothless smiles;
Radiant gums.
And it came as no surprise.
And the time was right now.
And it was beautiful –
It was, as it has always been . . . forever and a day.
Val Boyko said:
Beautiful indeed❣️ I love the electric energy and your eclectic words Esme. xoxo
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Thank you Val, so kind of you to say so and plough on through the many verses, very much appreciated. ❤
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Val Boyko said:
Thank you …. just a couple of hours to go and I’ll be able to see them 🌠🌠
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jim- said:
I’m speechless. Love love love this. The concept, the consistency never fades. Thank you for sharing.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
And I’m honoured, both that you get it, and also love it. Huge thanks in return sir.
Esme Cloud looking very happy indeed. ❤
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tubularsock said:
EXCELLENT!
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
THANK YOU!
-Esme whooping with joy upon the Cloud.
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acflory said:
Poetry is not my forte, but sometimes images hit so hard they make me gasp:
‘A spontaneous contraction of the chain occurred;
Like a cord shuttling back into a cosmic vacuum cleaner,’
Such a shock! And so great. Bravo, Ms Cloud, bravo. 🙂
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Thank you dear Meeka, bows, curtsies and blows a kiss [No mean feat.] Brilliant hearing when a line grabs someone!
Esme Cloud knowing just how much the cosmos sucks at times. ❤
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acflory said:
-grin- I like the bit about the wrinkles and gums too, but for some reason that vacuum cleaner cord just totally got to me. 🙂
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Swarn Gill said:
What a wonderful poem Esme. The span of time in which this love story covers is as immeasurably as the love itself. When I got to the stanza about them trying to sever the connection it reminded a little of the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. When you are burning with love, but can’t express it, it can be painful and you may try to extinguish it. But, in my experience, such attempts are in vain. You must somehow learn to just live with it, and sometimes it will bring you moments of joy, and sometimes it will bring you moments of pain, all interspersed into the life you are living.
Your insight into love and the human heart and your ability to creatively project it into this poem that spans vast space and time is truly a work of art. Touch is such an important part of who we are, but I am grateful for love even at a distance. Because who knows when the universe might yank the chains to put two people together? 🙂
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Thank you Swarn, some connections are just so, and yes, touch is here and now, but there’s a great deal above and beyond that makeup such chains. This why the strongest love poems from centuries ago still hold us fast; we want a piece of that for ourselves, regardless of the pain. Humans eh? laughs. It’s a swansong in the middle of a neverending loop. A yarn of indeterminable length one might say smiles. I should have added seashells really, for they can hear each other in every single one.
I so appreciate your comment Swarn, it does mean a great deal to know someone enjoyed it this much. x
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Swarn Gill said:
You are very welcome Esme.
I always say that the pain we feel over love is only proportional to the joy we experience, and in that way even the pain is something to be grateful. Because I daresay there are people who walk this world who never get to experience such joy and love, which I think is a far greater tragedy.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Very true, for to fall so far one has to have reached great heights. It’s never wasted either to my mind.
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Professor Taboo said:
Excellent interpretation and elaboration Swarn! How can we truly appreciate the ecstacy of joy and immeasurable perfect, natural human chemistry when we haven’t experienced the disaster, disappointment, and two-left-footed awkwardness or difficulty of painful encounters? ❤ 😉
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Swarn Gill said:
I sort of meant that the pain over a break up is proportional to the joy we experienced during the relationship, but in general I agree that pain has it’s value regardless.
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Hariod Brawn said:
‘And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.’
—The End.
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Swarn Gill said:
Even if you weren’t trying to be clever, you’re clever, which is what’s so clever about you. I like how the name of the song also reads as “The End” as in end of story. 🙂
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Hariod Brawn said:
Believe me, I have to try exceedingly hard to convey even the vaguest suggestion of some lurking cleverness, Professor Gill, and suspect to have fooled no more than a handful in the last half century. In other words: I don’t believe you. 😉
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Hariod Brawn said:
P.S. It would seem Esme Cloud is a Beatle admirer judging by one of her tags.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Across the Universe. It’s my swansong, I shall have it blasted as I dive from the Cloud into the vast blackness of oblivion sometime in the next two hundred years. Phenomenal song, though I like the version that Rufus, Moby and Sean do the bestest.
Esme singing away happily upon the Cloud
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Swarn Gill said:
It’s only because I think she is Eleanor Rigby though.
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Hariod Brawn said:
I’d better get off her blog or she’ll be wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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Tish Farrell said:
Across time and space so fabulously wrought, Esme. That cloud of yours is one helluva of a creating space.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
I’m honoured you think so Tish. Enormously.
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Tish Farrell said:
🙂
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Professor Taboo said:
Oh my. Be still my electric, eclectic, pounding heart! 💓😶 Woah…
this, my Lady Esme, is timeless.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Thank you, Professor! Very pleased to hear it too. Be quick to shove it back into your shirt for fear your pounding heart flees the scene causing mayhem down the road at the local bar. I’m sure it’s happened before laughs a lot.
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Professor Taboo said:
If I may Madame Esme, I would like to reblog this exceptionally profound poetic story of Soul Mate/Twin Flame connection. I see/feel it as not only communication, but as a natural Quantum, thermodynamic, Cosmic connection. This is how it spoke and resounded with me. Would you approve of this? 🙂
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Yes, please do, I’m more than chuffed to hear you want to dear Professor – extra thanks for the extra words too – ‘a natural Quantum, thermodynamic, Cosmic connection.’ – marvellous! x
Madame Esme cartwheeling across the cosmos happily.
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Professor Taboo said:
Oh no, I dare not dabble with any words anywhere! Only the title. For personal reasons, Tin Can “Connections” in place of Communication was the only single word I’d prefer. Everything else is perfection Ma’am. 🙂
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Cheeky bugger. Hahahahaha, I was just referring to the extra words in your second comment, not my poem! falls about
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Professor Taboo said:
Hahahaha! (falling about with the Madame while being tortured by lethal paper darts!)
Well, aini’t that a failure of Communication, huh? (winkyness)
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
It was, our link broke in about sixty seconds, so you’re no use to me at all. Hahahahaha.
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Professor Taboo said:
Btw, I’ll be reblogging this after my current series. Fyi. ❤
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
I’m pleased to hear it Professor, thank you again, I look forward to seeing it fly to another part of the aether. I’m working on the illustration for it at the moment too; a hand-printed lino cut.
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Bill Ziegler said:
Simply marvelous, Esme. I’m giving it 5-stars, stars that you can view by visiting the tip-top of your cloud. This is a pulsing, palmable, palpable parabola of a poem. The heart pulses, the palms meet palpably, the spheres form a parabola. It’s also a tapestry woven through time and space, connect those dotted spheres with 5-star symbols: fire, water, air, earth, spirit.
Perfection.
🙂 ❤ 🙂
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Ooooh that’s a cracking comment Bill! All those peeees beating away there so beautifully, and five stars no less! Definitely no less in fact. Thank you, Bill, I don’t think many of us get the accolade of ‘perfection’ for a written piece so your words have made me very happy indeed. So kind of you. ❤
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Bill Ziegler said:
And ‘perfection’ is itself another of “All those peeees”, a panoply I posit 🙂
And making you “very happy indeed” makes me very happpppy 🙂 ❤ 🙂
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
A positively posited position to present as a present at present and in perpetuumum! ❤
Esme dancing a polka with Bill upon the Cloud
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makagutu said:
Hello Esme,
this is quite beautiful
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Hello Mak, thank you so much, I’m chuffed to bits you think so. ❤
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inspiredbythedivine1 said:
Superb!
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Thank you Jeff!
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Jonathan said:
This poem is amazing
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Why thank you Jonathan, and welcome to the Cloud. But back to thanking you — I’m chuffed to little mint balls with your words, I really am.
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jim- said:
This work is a growing art-cloud which I shall carry burstfully in my left front pocket, just in case the missus misses, or messes my reunion with her in future eons. This!..She will never forget! My golden ticket, so to say, and a slight touch on her palm, just to be sure she knows it’s me.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Marvellous! That’s a beautiful thing to do and say, I’m honoured that you connect it with your misses and shall do for throughout eternity. Keep in her good books, that’s a really long time, hahahaha.
Burstfully – love that. Thank you again with bells and fairy lights on Jim. x
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jim- said:
It’s one of those rarities that grow on a person. I truly love it!
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
So you didn’t like it at first eh? Hahahahaha. I’m kidding, that’s fantastic to hear! x I love it too, I wonder often who crawled into my head and wrote it. beams
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jim- said:
You must have a fine editor! It’s an idea that I’ve had but have been unable to put into words. I made an attempt at one time, maybe I’ll dig it out. Thanks again. Nice work!
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
He’s alright I suppose. pegs it fast before H sees this
Hahahahaha.
Do dig it out, I find ideas half written bloom with age when I return to them.
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stephanieroath3157 said:
Wow! I am in absolute awe at this beautifully written piece! These kinds of concepts get my creativity flowing! Love this perspective, taking you from beginning to end. Wonderful writing here!✨
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Hello Stephanie and welcome to the Cloud, I’m highly chuffed to read your comment as it is about one of my favourite self-penned pieces, and does go on a bit (for some I suspect), thank you so much for your words – inspiration is a wonderful thing and I’m honoured to have got your creativity a-flow.
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stephanieroath3157 said:
Twirling proudly on your Cloud!♥️♥️✨ (Also, you’d think I’m crazy if I told you how many times I’ve read this post now!) So beautiful!
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Hahahahaha, crazy is requisite for a Cloudster, some here are even full-blown nuts (see Hariod), so you’ll fit in just fine. I’m off to Jim’s now to thank him for chucking you my way.
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