Here too, time is suspended
in expectations of enforced absorption.
The noise and speed is mesmerising,
leaving the movement nowere to go.
We must recognise the complexity of this crisis,
the errors of old equations.
When we set out to imagine alien behaviour
we imagine their shape but
aliens have nothing but contempt for us,
keep the masses ignorant and themselves in power.
Some stories can't be accounted for;
myth rather than mystery offers the most acceptable account,
cultural anthropology of a more fictional kind.
There was a time when giants walked among us;

why wouldn't we include the space above our heads
in our narratives?



Making my way through long lines of tourists
I saw three men standing observing the fire.
They weren't angels but visitors from far-off,
not ancient questing heroes but high-tech travellers
embedded in the mysteries of our planet,
evidence of advanced alien technologies.

Stories of strangeness are so compelling;
we really want to know about the meaning of life.

Am I to think that they are still presiding over my safety
by keeping me from the edge? Have others died to keep me safe?
This is a monument to violence and its effect is terrifying,
a harking back to the split second before the tragedy,
the built equivalent of a moment of silence.
Is what is to be remembered here not absence?

Sleep paralysis is used to explore a body of data pointing to
aspects of the natural world not explained by science.

     Text: Rupert M Loydell / Image: A.C. Evans   2011