I'd write about the truth if I knew it

[saw]

shadows in the periphery
taunting my reality, can't
seem to tell what is real today
actually a lot of days, this old
mind of mine plays tricks on me
was that a mouse ?
was that a reminder that
I can no longer rely on certainty
and we all know that perception
is reality, and so I muddle about
the house with these flashes in my eyes
in my mind
a game we play together
was that real or did I make it up
the memory banks are perhaps
as delusional as my iffy recollection
I'd write about the truth if I knew it

[sasha]

I've noticed something similar, especially if I quickly shift the direction of my gaze - I'll often see something strange & unfamiliar in the background, sometimes in motion before it suddenly comes to a stop. It's a perceptual error of some kind - I suspect it has to do with the brain correlating all that fresh visual data rushing in - what used to occur almost instantly now takes a little longer. It takes time to arrange all those pixels into a picture - and until a recognizable image forms, it can be a bit hallucinatory. It doesn't help that my vision isn't as sharp as it once was (and it was never that great to begin with). It's a little creepy & disconcerting, but I'm learning I need to stare for a second or two so my visual center has time to assemble a stable, coherent image.

[saw]

rollin' with the tide
a snarl of neural seaweed
dancing along the shores
of my mind that tries to discern
what dashes into the corners
quickly
I stare for awhile as the cycle
runs through the possibilities

[winddance]

like the words
on the tip of my tongue
the picture
on the edge of sight

[sasha]

or the song fragment in your head
you know you know
but just can't place

[winddance]

had one of those
"I'll try to be succincter, but his mouth looks like a sphincter"
found out it was from a song by Sandra and Richard Riccardi
"kiss my rump donald trump"
now I can't get it out of my head

[sasha]

That one could find, much less need, a rhyme for "sphincter"... Randy Rainbow is one of my favorite Trump-trolling troubadors...

For me it's usually an instrumental passage. Last night it was a phrase from an old Don Sebesky orchestration of "Court of the Crimson King" - the rhythm section segue into the trumpet solo. Knew it was something in my collection, but just couldn't put the context around it.