Skip to main content

EXILE

 

1.


Permitted

one day:

 

collect things

be beyond border

or else.

 

2.


A broken circle

closes behind me.

 

I spin-off

indefinitely,

absent gravity.

 

3.

 

My memories

disserve me—I must leave that life

behind

 

again and again;

again and again.

 

4.

 

I see familiar forms.

I think I am home—


I slip

into an abysmal zone—

I gaze into a labyrinth of memory, 


sink into a haze

of yesterday’s today.

 

5.

 

I did not abandon

your memory.

It might return.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

TENSION OF PRESENCE

 A human being is content searching for form.  My spirit flows away from me, reaching back to this Earth, returns to me anew, a force of Becoming. I am a river that ebbs and flows. ME crashing into NOT-ME, just as this world is eternally unrestful, always at war with itself. Constant movement presses us toward the present; we are carried onward, but we may clutch about in fright, lurching forward or retreating into memory. These are the integrations of a tumultuous mind: thinking that it is,  needing to be, yet becoming something unfamiliar.

ABSTRACTION

Once fire was naught but burning. Abstraction found it capable of holding. Through reduction, man sought new control, unmindful of the weight upon his soul; And it was then that the gods absconded, to roost in Olympian obscurity. Abstraction bound Prometheus to his rock, endlessly devoured by a world made recurrent.