Robert Komishane closes his eyes in order to see better: makes sense to me!

Madman Dick Chaney falls to the depths beneath the surface to the labyrinth beneath the operatic towers that are A Word with You Press. What? Lon Chaney? Are you sure? But...

Literati! Let’s welcome Robert Komishane to our site; a first-timer. Did anyone bother to warn him that I post pictures according to the second thing that pops into my head?(those who know his moiness better already know what the first thing is). Here’s an imaginative tale; the fool on the hill as city dweller.

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by Robert Komishane

Beneath the surface of the madman’s mask, his secret brain lurks, looking out at the mysterious streets of his city wriggling with passersby all in a hurry. He tries to concentrate on their faces, figure out what they’re trying to convey to him in their cryptic language, but they keep decomposing into stroboscopic fragments too quick and indistinct to read. So he gives up, sits down on a bench at the street corner, and closes his eyes.

Just in time. The show’s about to begin. Up on the screen nimble dancers with wide orange grins pasted onto their faces leap and frolic, dip and pivot, spinning day into night into day. Tears giggle down the madman’s cheeks when suddenly, without warning, a dark and heavy curtain drops and covers the stage and he’s dragged down underneath, swimming for his life.

Finally, at the end of his endurance, the madman gives up and falls through deeper and deeper fathoms until he comes to rest on the ocean floor. Here, in a recess so remote the surface people in their somnambulistic rambles have not yet even dreamt it, the madman watches an endless caravan of glittering sea creatures of every color, shape, and size flit, shoot, and float by.   Then, a phantasmal Blue Heron materializes right in front of his eyes, harpoons and speeds him all the way up to breach the surface of the water, and deposits him back on the bench at the street corner, where he’s been sitting since early afternoon.

The madman opens his eyes, tilts back his head, and gazes at an entirely blue sky, not even a whisper of white in sight. He rejoices.

One of the advantages of aqua-culture is you don't have to irrigate.
One of the advantages of aqua-culture is you don’t have to irrigate.

 

 

5 comments

  1. Parisianne Modert says:

    Here is an interesting read with the point made that madness need not be mad at existence. The madman sees an existence that others don’t, because they are not free to explore as he is within his psychotic imagination of sea creatures, blue heron and a familiar bench looking up at an unclouded blue sky. The temptation to name this Visions of Blue might give the false impression of unhappiness. The madman among us can also be the most content and joyous beneath the surface. Very nice imagery and story.

  2. Kristy Webster

    I’m so pleased to see Robert’s writing on here. Such rich use of language, such powerful imagery. Robert and his writing are a gift to so many in our seaport community. I’m grateful to know him.

  3. Monica Brinkman

    Robert, the phrasing and working was exquisite. As we scurry through our everyday lives, who knows what that stranger sitting on the park bench is perceiving. Our we at times all madmen to be lost in an imaginary world or is it the select few?
    Whatever the case, enjoyed those tale and happy to see you here.

  4. David Monfried says:

    Bob has always been brilliant, thoughtful, and curious. Having known him since boyhood in Elizabeth, it’s wonderful to see how his imagination and ability to articulate have blossomed!

    So sorry I didn’t know he lived in Port Townsend when I lived in Bellevue a few years back….

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