In defined

As the rag sat considerably upon the cement stair edge, I observed the two geese flying northward overhead. The day was hot and wintery, as the policeman stared through the glass pane of the store window across the street. "Is that a crystal ball he's got there?" I wondered as my hair grew. There must be some kind of hill around here, indeed. Then the postman, oh so weathered and frank, sauntered by in an emotional high. "Hello!" he shouted, "have you got those blasted ears labeled yet!?" I don't know what he means. "What?" I said, looking rather frank myself. "Dashing! And all those cornbread couches can be set to relief."
Oh. This is quite enough. Let's all go outside or something.
No really.
Stand up, and walk downstairs, ignoring the hour on the clock by the wall, o[pen the guilded metal doorknob, take a few seconds, step out into the fresh copious atmosphere.
Ahh, isn't that better?
Well, you can either stay out here or go back to business. Why is that word spelled like "busyness?" perhaps, long ago, they meant it to mean in the state of being busy, but now, silly us, we misuse the word entirely.

A pep talk for the green ones

soon the villagers will awaken to find the cold jungle revealing absynth closets. two stars sparkle in the forbidden sky as the giant awaits the two plum pears to be broken. a soft swill is the canvas for the badly strewn robots. to still is the flavor of the tranquil song birds. the sad rhythm keeps calling to the child who is without din and hidden among the firey flanks of a hospital room.

Entry 2

A cold wind
Ran frozen through the dark
Dense forest
And I sat and watched
As it picked up aquaintances
And washed them red
My life was whisping
And the howling frost
Committed me stagnant
For throughout time
My heart worn soul
Had been linked to the subtle rays
Of a frosty whirling sea

A book coerced

In the dim, quiet muskiness of the cave, the settler raised his arms in self significance. "How do these pests keep pestering me?" he asked no one sitting with him, "Why is there foliage in the green drawer of my oblique memory? Facts and fiction! Lines and paste! It all adds up to an unequivolent mortar for this lying deceitful tower we call-" but some motion within the cave aborted his thinking. A slow silence required nothing but derision.
"Is it me or did the walls just fall around your so-called artifact life?" He waited. "Did it ever make you wonder how a created being such as yourself could spend so much time forgetting what you came here for?" Still no answer. "Are you alive or dead? Half or whole? One might smother the path to an overbearing, unrespected, overcushioned..." he ran out of breath and just then came a response-
"You know you're not willing to go from here."
"What?"
"I ate breakfast this morning, read the Wall Street Journal, put on my leather shoes, and headed eight miles north from my house. I wasn't expecting to find a cave or a frequent...well, you know the story, but my mind is made up."
"And that is?"
"That is that we can leave and cross the brook and be a lot happier when the sun rings."
"If you said that to me five minutes ago, I would have busted your lip, but now I'm willing to hear you out. Continue."
"I can't. You believe it's all here and it can't be. Look there's a row of flicking rocks over there, right? Well, if you could only hear the sound they make when you throw them; it's a din that's nothing like the real storm when it comes. I'm telling you, it's quite imaginary."
"Mm."
"And if you'd just stop to listen to the birds twirling, I mean up there, it's like a new dimension of forest and grief."
"If what you're saying is true then I have no right to argue, but if it's been so easy to depart, then why haven't the cars been hoisted up and requested?"
"There's no magic to it. Just simple drink and meat. It's like I would have told you, had you been here: There are lots of them, and time to get free from the burdens of health."
"I can see it, if I might, in the darkness of what you told me. I suppose I'm ready to await."
"Then let us retire. My sordid arms are waxing foolish."