Show Me The World

Somehow we’re all here.

Show Me The World

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

Expectation, fall into place, a falling place,

ahh how you soon learn things have

a way of going where few things go. 

Jurassic acknowledgement, life finds 

a way. Jumanji drums feet lift from earth,

bridge to all may be. 

Be found oh distance one, have your

rathers. Say you galloping sun, for I am 

the only one to wrap your cloak around

and hold me night. Trace suspension 

to n fro gages something well below,

always now, prism rhyme obeys light. 

Heavy is the point, feel the weight of

the world translated through you,

something to push against. Hold me 

down so I may fly, have the moon in

my lap looking at what always held me 

back, in the cloak of time. 

Eternal Resolve

The pleasant pairing of space & time. Originally titled Passion Patrol.

Eternal Resolve

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

Pleasure running out my toes 

greed blown from thy nose 

sung in manor of mountain temple 

obscuring boundaries when able

to coax frequency with command 

returns oneself to cradling hand 

of a world all for you. 

seeing with infinity

originally titled, loose lids of wondrous visions. glimpsed 1-16-22

rewritten today.

seeing with infinity

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

At once at once 

follows an order 

beckoned to redeem 

forgone reason in

light of Spring as

never before season,

delighted upon the chance 

to integrate of a different

harmony altogether. 

If It’s Time We Must Bear

George Harrison’s Living in the Material World… comes to his son in a dream.

If It’s Time We Must Bear

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

Untool mind to spare time those steps 

never taken. Relishing difference the 

song of new eyes, a respectable space 

comfortable, not overdone. An orbital 

perspective feels the pull of a world

willing you back to cuddle up and listen.

All was a trap beyond our hitherto existence, a

collection of shapes behaving as one striding being 

with the sum of human efforts playing out in precisional 

tattoos, till accusations arise about an unacknowledged

separateness between two arms on one body driving 

the operator mad with itchy skin, deciding best march 

for Andromeda, agonizing surrender.

Arriving before we’re ready if it’s time we must bear, 

recline to find it’s not there, hatching then a chick of

eternal incubation, cute, fluffy, and unchanged. 

Surprised to notice those baby steps were always

at your feet, a breadcrumb trail for mice of men. 

Our Own Devices

An afternoon of adventure.

Our Own Devices 

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

Dip into nothing

skipping town, 

Hawaiian slice 

pineapple underground. 

Arms no longer arms, 

but propellers motoring 

into any desired ripple

for a more simple eternity. 

Ocean collaboration

with visual dilation, no

hermit left unshelled from 

an encompassing meld.

Every stone turned from

Bikini Bottom. 

Wooing day satisfies night, 

their love a sight for our eyes.

A light reminder for the striving, 

be back tomorrow for the same 

lesson said the golden teacher.  

Luminous Drops

A series of thoughts while surfing the morning of 10/29/21.

Luminous Drops

By Tyler Mobley

In a world of reminders, reflections of life’s unknowable center pass with utmost familiarity. It may seem obvious after the fact, self aware creatures are bound by the light they see, yet being of light their understanding of its spectrum is only limited by the spectrum itself. A Dude Where’s my Car’s “continuum transfunctioner, its mystery is exceeded only by its power.” Everywhere there is light there is a rainbow, put another way a rainbow exists in all the light we see. When the sun reflects off your phone and casts an iridescence on your hand grasping the wheel while you drive. The Dark Side of the Moon album put it right under our noses, but we only see so much with our ears. A lone beam passing through a prism becomes many as constituents are displayed. There we are, “the all singing, all dancing crap of the world,” pulling out our phones to capture through the clouds what we’d find if we’d look inside (Fight Club). 

A surf of revelation sets my receptors open to basement dwellings, a rainbow in the spray off the back of a passing wave shone in the low morning light. Thoughts come knocking, not one to wait is the self referential check in all things, the seed within the fruit. Arriving at Stan Tenen of Meru Foundation, “light in the meeting tent” occurs to relieve some insight. We are no different, take the formless, light, fire, soul, and pass it through the form, prism, water, body, and what appears? A rainbow. 

Soren Kierkegaard in The Sickness unto Death frames our condition as a relation to the relation. The central relation between formless and the form, the self is what becomes of the relation to the central relation, thus the self is inherently self referential. To become oneself, find you’re light among the rainbow. 

Links to

https://meru.org/

https://antilogicalism.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/thesicknessuntodeath.pdf

Clicking Reel

Clicking Reel 

By Tyler Mobley

Letting out line, mind a clicking reel, wonky

film projector tempting realities to

sprout from skull and politely ask the present 

for a dance, only to ruin her and take her place.  

Sea surface storms about how the heart wants 

if skin would show it, left with throwing rocks 

to ripple the calm, trusting it will return when 

our minds are ready. 

Marble monks on city hall contain all things and 

none with how they hold themselves,

conversing behind our backs, you’d swear on

their rolling eyes, unmoved movers of sacred bust.

Falling as a precious drop onto vacant dune, 

giving life to dust in a flood of visions, that

may last the next rain. 

Absence Eternal

Started from a thought jotted down while driving to work, like those shoulder advisors we’ve seen repeated.

Absence Eternal 

By Tyler Lucas Mobley 

“You’re here again?” 

A demon of ember skin sits gargoyle on the lunch table cover watching Timmy Schwartz walk to chemistry class. 

“What do you want?” 

Sparks fly off the grin that displays a set of charcoal teeth, “I’m here to show you your future.” 

Timmy stops and looks up at the domon, “why don’t you just go away my future is fine without you,” stomping off backpack bouncing. 

“When will one turn out? They don’t know the privilege they’re missing, somehow I’m only visible to the shy ones. 

“The chemical chain of atoms is made up from a series of bonds; the placement of these bonds determine the type of the element,” says the teacher. Timmy looks around, did he hear her right, did she just say bomb? 

“Boo!” 

Timmy jumps in his seat knocking his binder to the floor, he can hear the crackle and pop of the demon behind him, but all the eyes in the classroom are on him. 

“Is everything alright Mr. Schwartz?” asked the teacher, seeing a distraught little Timmy. 

“Tell her nothing is alright, it’s all going to hell.”

The class became more confused when Timmy “shhh’d” the air behind him.

“I’m alright,” said Timmy, “actually could I step out for some air?” 

“That would be fine Timmothy.”  

His chest tightened, air seemed to be pressed out of him as though the Empire State Building were on his chest. The ground around him turned into a molten rock shaking with steam. Timmy tried to jump free though every leap landed him in a thermal glow, and the ground grows more brittle with each lingering second. 

“Had enough?” says the demon, startling Timmy who was planning his next move, “stay away,” Timmy cries and attempts to jump. The cement crumbles under Timmy unloading his springs, a fail characteristic of when people slip while jumping off boat railings, or flimsy outdoor furniture. A static extension causing an off balance landing, Timmy stumbles, trips himself and falls head first into a nearby planter. He pulls his head out of a cherimoya and pats dirt from his shirt, eyeing around he sees no sign of the demon. 

“Brother, it is I, creator of all that is and will be.” 

Timmy looked at the janitor with his bucket on wheels and mop stick in both hands. 

“Yeah, would you mind telling me what is going on here, Mr. … umm ahh Creator.” 

The janitor throws back his head in laughter, a crack of thunder, echoes run between the buildings.  “What did you do to him?” asked the janitor of the demon, who was crouched above Timmy, embers sprinkling down. 

“He did it to himself, the kid is a box of tissues, you’re choosing him,” the demon asked then snapped his fingers and a cigar appeared in them, “audacious is all.” Biting off one end of the wrap and spitting it out, and then lit the other on himself and blew smoke in God’s face. 

“Do you mind stepping aside, Crusty and I need to have a talk,” the janitor said to Timmy. 

“Alright? You can wait back in class, Timmy?” 

Timmy began to redden. 

“Ohh release him would you!” 

The demon unclenches a fist that wasn’t around Timmy’s neck, but inflicting force all the same. 

“I think I will go back to class, I’ll just be here if…” 

“Hey knock that off.” 

The demon puts Timmy back on the ground. 

“Ask me, the boy can hear, he’s going to have to learn eventually, right?” 

The janitor looks at Timmy. 

“Right, then how do you expect me to believe your party will end when you won’t even let me have my witness?” 

“Witness,” the demon said with a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it now, and we agree unangeled? 

“That’s why we’re here aren’t we?” 

Timmy fell into glazed bewilderment not sure if he believed any of this. What would he witness? Angels? 

“Timmy,” the Creator said with a sigh. “The world, Earth, goes through phases.”  

The demon chuckles, the Creator shoots him a look. 

“See the things that bring life also require death.” 

“My department,” the demon interrupts with a puff of smoke. 

Timmy gulps. 

“And you know what the source of all life is, don’t you?” 

Timmy looks directly at the sun, not quite at noon. The janitor quickly covers Timmy’s eyes with his hand, and bites a smile over his shoulder. 

“That’s right Timmy, the sun is the provider of all life and thus, can take it away.” 

“Take away all life? Could it be true? 

“Our demon angels descend in hell fire to clean house, just wait and see kid.”  

Timmy took another gulp. 

“We’re meeting with you so you may ready yourself for the task humanity requires of you. Have you heard of Herodotus? Like him for the next age.” 

“A new age?” 

“Even the Earth must be reborn, my son.” 

“You come with us now and in 30 years time, Earth will go a-rockin, as I’ll be a knocking,” said the demon.

“Ok let me get my bookbag and I’ll be ready to go.”

“That won’t be necessary, just follow us and you’ll have everything you need to know.” 

Timmy watched the janitor and demon banter through campus, his pride swelled as he felt his life’s calling agree with every step. Timmy glanced at the sun, and thought how precious a star it was. Timmy steps off the curb.

 His shoes landed on the ceramics and woodshop buildings respectively. Since the bus was on the smaller side, it had a normal car hood which Timmy rolled onto up the windshield, and received an extra kick from the raised roof leaving his limp body with considerable amplitude to fall in a fit of acrobatic twist and tumbles, that would’ve been the envy of Biles and Lee until landing face first on the pavement. 

The creator and the demon stop and turn to look at what’s the matter. The janitor shakes his head in his hands. The demon says, “guess you should’ve started with how to look both ways.” 

Kendall McClellan’s Lesson Plan: A Pandemic Miracle

CSUCI Spring 2020

Kendall McClellan’s Lesson Plan: A Pandemic Miracle  

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

We’d emerged from Baldwin and Hughes to “Let America

Be America Again” she took a brave stance behind the 

lectern and said “when I made this lesson plan back in

Christmas break, I never would’ve guessed that the day

I planned to talk about the stock market crash of 1929, 

the market would fall by a percentage that exceeds the 

record set the week that began the Great Depression.” 

The students just shift in their seats already convinced

their future is moot. This is what an education buys, 

informing you of the irony over head like a bucket of

icy water ready to drench, who’s recording?

The Diamond Princess hung on the horizon as an 

appetizer for things to come, while most were 

fenced on how Buttigeig gave suspicion that if you 

peaked inside his suit there would be dozens of 

mice pulling levers. Then it happened, the world

held it’s breath, some became deciders of 

essentiality while others never picked up their 

heads from the task at hand. 

Never more definitive uncertainty in the air 

her head recoils as if hit with a whiff of awful,

dispelling a reality she’d rather not accept. 

And then class went on, because that’s what 

we did back then. If I’d known it’d be my last 

day with her I might’ve made more of a goodbye. 

Her Way Never Lost

Today, when hungry pen brokefast to page, this happen.

Her Way Never Lost

By Tyler Lucas Mobley

Her body a sound garden, storm swept sea

passengers afloat, humming her vibration.

Carried and tossed, her way never lost

cosmic gyres full of glee, winking out reality.

afterthought: simulation, consciousness, energy ladder doesn’t seem all that off. Maude; extremely vaginal.