appropos of that last bit

recently saw "man on a wire" and can't stop thinking about the images and that (miraculously not) staggering point of view!

For today's prompt, write a poem using one of the following headlines as the title of your poem (pulled from espn.com, cnn.com, npr.org, texasmonthly.com):

* Spectator falls from 2nd deck
* Life under melting Arctic ice
* Disheartened by the disaster
* The Many Voices of Lauryn Hill
* If You Can't Take the Heat, Use Fewer Jalapenos


* Spectator falls from 2nd deck

You cannot wonder
what is under
nor bend to see the source
of the end

What do you see
from that edge
ledge from which you lean
to see

Something that is not you
so much not you, forever her
and yet the yearn to know
to want more, look

ooh lean and learn
bend enough and
see the end

briefly - the image sought
the back the neck
upside down on the back
of an upside down
now dark
forever
eye

The Great Oxidation Event

In the dream, I am kissing _____ in my doorway (no, I'm not going to tell you!). Apparently we share the same doorway, have since we saw each other last. It's so strange our paths haven't crossed. It is a sweet reunion but I'm distracted looking over his shoulder as a pile of glossy photos has just landed on my doorstep and spread out in a sloppy fan. It's some kind of blackmail. I can see they are images from a different dream: some compromising, some Freudian, some - just those impossible-to-get-into-words über detailed subconscious whatchamacallits.

There are photographs of them?? -- wow.

The picture here is not one, but it could be. Both sexes combined. The impulse to curl, to widen, to rise, to flatten. What impulse? why? Why symmetry/ asymmetry? Why color?

This is the oldest known multi-cellular fossil - 2.1 BILLION years old and not small, almost 5 inches.

". The 2.1 billion-year mark is significant because scientists believe the Earth's atmosphere underwent a major transition, called the "Great Oxidation Event," about 2.4 million years ago"

So - form follows function? What is the right question? It's what I want my painting to be about, in some ways, maybe what these dreams are doing in their own weird, detailed, trying way? From what/for what/into what does form arise? What is the point (is there a point?) of differentiation between potential and its expression?

There is oxygen and then there is potential, or the expression of potential.

I feel, in my life, I am finally learning to breathe.
I wonder what form(s) will come of it?