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Thursday, October 24, 2013

Repetitive/Invasive 24.10.013

I am a collective of cells and flesh.

I am wired through with impulses Electric;
the cells
and the flesh
speak with one another
(across distances Infinite
and intraverseable--
yet I call This my thumb,
and This: my phallus;
and This is my arm
and This is my Heart--
This is my arm
This is my Heart--
and This is all a great lie)
by shooting
jolts of charged ions down paths
encased in a myelin sheathing;

but in my dystrophy I wonder:

am I cells and flesh;
am I blood and bone;
am I tissue and organ and muscle and ligament;
am I dead proteins
(arranged in such a manner
as to attract You,
the subjective Object of my momentary
Desire--across the way, moving towards me
amidst the rock-show music,
with mote-like notes falling on our ears,
and our faces
[turned Outwards towards one another, in
a Peacock-like display
of all our wildest fantasies
and most wily-and-cherished dreamsequences
involving long-lost love
found again
in the most Primal of mind-melding
places]);
spurting forth from follicles wedged
between skin cells;
am I a large nose;
am I rotting teeth;
am I uncircumcised penis;
scars white and purple;
freckles, and sun spots;
hypovolemia;
virus (viruses) that will never leave
my Body Immaculate--

or am I, perhaps, the interminable chatter
that occupies the indeterminately
large-or-small
space between

two Ears
two Eyes
Mouth and Basil Ganglia
Larynx and Medulla Oblongata
sinus passages
(labyrinth of bacteria and fluids and so many
green-tinged
childhood illnesses)
and long-since-fused fontanel?

What is the Mind?

What are my thoughts, and how
do they translate themselves
(so invisibly, so seamlessly)

into actuality; into realness; into a world

which seems to be so ruthlessly governed by a Categorical Imperative
and a Religious conviction
Hell-bent on homo-genization
(yet unaccepting of homo-sexualization
and everything that it entails

[love; a species being; a freeing
from the confines
of Space, and of
Time; a broadening of
our Human Minds
 
{but, again: WHAT IS THE MIND?!}
and an acquisition of the knowledge of All
that is entailed by the symbolic term
of "selflessness"--
and a freeing from the confines
of Social Acceptance and normalcy;
individualism as a sect of the
capital-C
Community]) ;

fought and rallied against by Science
(another Great Evil if left unchecked, if
allowed to run rampant
in its capital-R
Righteousness, in its
Revelry in the falsehood that is the Religious Right

[which, by antithesis,
makes its own statements
no less Real
or informed by Insight]) ?
How do my thoughts affect
the transient world;
how do my thoughts connect
to the basal
mud-and-lightning
that is my ephemeral Body?

What am I?

How can I be?

What use is there in Naming?

How do the stars shine;
what semblance of realism is there in my momentary
(daily)
breathing--

and what does the beating of my Heart mean?

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Nivek 17.10.013

I've never had the need
to ensconce myself
in smell;
in scent
most brown-pearlescent--

until You;
until
(the advent of)
You.

But there is very little
that is advantageous
about your absence.

Now I sit here, removed
from every memory
(or singular moment)
which has any
singular
thing to do with you

or your absence
or your love
or your presence
or your ill-expressed
and ever-forgotten
Essence.

I remember the way we used to laugh.
I remember the nights we spent--

locked in one another's arms,
or apart
(but always touching,
caressing,
loving).

I remember how good it always used to be.
And I know it's so much better now;
I know you were wholly
wrong for me.

You are not the Shining Knight;
you ride
no white steed.

You are a boy;
you fear;
you're weak.

06.9.010

Two fruit flies,
drowned
in the man's bathtub.

Gasping
no longer;
holding onto
one
another
for dear Life--

even
in Death.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Pinprick Lights 17.7.013

Rocking on our wraparound porch--
soapstone-cold whiskey in my hand--
I'd like to watch the lightning bugs dance.

Listening to the cicadas hum,
watching the dogs tussle outside--
tousling your hair in the day's failing light:

I want to watch the fireflies.