A Dragon meets the Snake at the Lagrangian point of the heart.


The moon represents my heart.
The moon represents my heart.

We moving fast and strong, and if I think on it quite attractive fire. You down there in the riot would not notice us from earth. We left some day ago and we didn’t make the papers since they are long since dead and gone. The dragon ship is tight and moving along the gravity line between our earth and moon and sun.  I looked out just a minute back and saw it rising past our cockpit window screen.  Full and bright in the sunshine.  Yes right now Idon’t care for your texts or facebook posts of cats and dogs.

In just a minute it will be the new year down in China and our new year as well. I pressed play on Teresa Teng’s 月亮代表我的心  “Yueliang …Wo De Xin”.. in the final minutes of the latest moon dragon phase.

Rolling Jarrett bells of star chords singing with a statement then questions to follow. Who is that strong bright thing in the sky ? That rocket ship sitting so confident and ready to strike ? The man in it and why ?  No my love, that represents my heart.  Yeah, you know how you kissed me when I left.  Now that is how I love you.  How the moon is tonight. Do you remember it ?

Slow Slow.. slower.. slow.. we are coming up to the spot … that difficult spot in space … where you have to stop and pause in the Lagrangian moment.

Yes the earth is far enough to have no more impact that it’s favourite moon now.

A space ship in sound around in a quiet space with engines stopped and slow moving very slow you wouldnt know of course but waiting on no power. Then I thought carefully. That moon reflects my heart. So you could look up now and see it and know it is how my heart is.  A change of heart. I did it just to please you. But now I wish you were here or I was there. Just outside it… waiting on a Lagrangian point of love.

Photo of ‘Heart in a Bowl’ attribution : Auntie K : Flickr.

[Keith Jarrett : Koln Concert: Track 4..  6 minutes.]

Lagrangian points : 



The gravity of the massive earth sucked us on our towels into the sand of  the beach.  Our wet skin and shivering arms in the sunlight for the lifeguard to see.  Out of the seawater, streaming green seaweed locks of hair in cascades of ringlets down the side of her face.  An hour of afternoon we lay there and lazily swam from time to time aware of each others metaphoric selves. Lay pressed our arms on crushed sea shells with small sharp pricks. There was a cool breeze blowing across the bay and the scheme of things.

“when will you go back ?” I asked

“soon, I’ll go back and see how the ocean is doing”

“It’s too heavy here for you ?”

“Yes, the sky pushes down on me .. that part is tiring..”, she said.

“Everyone is looking at you… Not surprising really.. by the way it was fun !”

“I might just shift under that umbrella — do you mind ? – The sun is too strong”

“I thought of a poem about you.. want to hear it ?”

“Only if it is about home then. Ok ?”

whenever the sea belle sings

and the seaweed slings

in squeaks of massive waves

I hear your lovely voice

in the noisy shells of time

and seagulls

quark your never never name

“I love sea shells like that..” I said.

When a kid turns 100cc and bends something

on the road somewhere in Australia..

Ho Ho, on the bike at last.  The sun was going down at the farm, and the old dusty farm homestead road was the only track there was.  Such a bike at such an age of 15 or so, meant a chance to prove what a rider I could be.  No more stupid mini-bikes for me. With no thought I took off at flat chat. The road was narrow and once past the first curve in the drive started down a steep grade with corrugations all over, and the sun strong going down over the mountain.  I tried the brakes, of course they were bent or something from some prior stack.  I ended up in a heap of dust and rocks after squealing all over the dirt.

I must have been knocked out a bit, the bike’s headlight was climbing up through the dust into the sky, the hot heavy engine was stopped, and I was under it all.

I made it back to the homestead in the dark somehow, not with the bike, which wouldn’t start, but somehow I had made it back. I explained how the bike must has slipped from under me.  The brake lever was bent or something.  Perhaps I bent it.

I got in the shower to get clean, my arm hurt a lot, and my hip as well.  Painful it was to wash it all off. The blood and the dirt.  The mother of the house took a look and said, you will need a stitch.  Lets find the doctor.

We got in the sulky, the only vehicle left and went into town.

The doctor was no where to be seen, it was night, and all were at the opera house for a centenary celebration,  not too common in the outback.

He came in to the surgery, and stitched up the arm with black thread. Took a look at the hip and put a few in there as well.

It was late, and outback getting real dark and cold.  We piled back into the sulky and took off back to the farm.  The arm had got a bit stiff on the drive back but the mother of the house where I was staying seemed a lot happier to have had the doctor take a look and do some repairs.

Of course I was totally humiliated, having to admit that i had fallen off a bike, a 100cc motorbike at that. Bit the dust ! ! and had a scar on the elbow to remind of the event forever.  Ahh.. the mental pain was far greater than the actual.

100cc of blood lost – of petrol used – or power given – or forgiven – in the outback – a night to remember for the town’s 100th birthday – and my elbow is still bent,  just like the brake !