chapter IV
[oh no you don’t!! this is an epic poem… go back and read the whole of the first, second and third parts before you go sticking yer nose in here… oh.. you’ve already read those.. well then… my apologies]
a flirtation with genesis
whew
glad i got that out of my system
and now for something completely
different….
haha!!!
an impossible vista…
the new… the modern…
something that has never been said before
too many bright people have said that
this is impossible
and yet… i
believe
all that matters,
is how you say a thing
because there is
ultimately
no difference between you and me
the brilliant aesthetic
is what we all
believe in
we all hold that beauty
within ourselves
and to appreciate beauty
one must know the ugly
the disfigured
the shunned
in the world
in ourselves
good can only be appreciated
by its measure against evil
the good in every soul
is a reflection upon the bad
that soul can do
a jew, a catholic and a pagan walk into a bar
and they all sit down and figure it all out
and decide to just get along with each other
and fuck it
i’ll appear
with my jester hat
and my irreverent attitude
and in the subtle manner of my
understanding
i’ll appear
and laugh
loud and prolonged
these tastes of
infinity from
finite perspective
uuuuhhrp
ah
a little cosmic gasp
in the intestines
glad i got that out
so what is on the agenda for today
woke up
lived
breathed
ate
read
shat
worked
drank
smoked
loved
and slept
where is that switch
to turn off this endless
rinse and repeat process
i know it was around here last time
i needed it
it was on the side
way down low
almost out of reach on my tiptoes
got to make certain
it’s in the proper position
somewhere in the middle
perhaps a bit closer
to off….
but adjustment is an issue
of temperment,
duct-tape and hope
zen and the art of banality
to understand why
you should step outside
of anything
you must first exist
inside
something
day to day triviality
is something
grokked far to well
and occasionally
i do stop to wonder
if i could see any patterns
without this
repetition
for what is a pattern but a wave
what is a wave
but an endless
affection to wind
and the surface of the water
what is a pattern
except a construct
of thought-dreaming
that keeps coming at you
incessantly
that makes sense of it’s subtly
slowly
anything that you keep returning to
those slippery things you can follow
for brief moments
until they crest
and crash
for i am the candystriped
prayer wheel
endlessly spinning outside the barbershop
across from the temple
silently expressing my defiance
as i assume
as i wax ubiquitous
in a moment
that steps outside of meaning
takes on its own irreverent shape
blooms like a slow flower
a night creature
come to fruition
among these teeming hordes
of contemporary cognition
here i lose
and assume
timelessness
easiest way to forgive yourself
for doing nothing
the things that are important
you have to go back to time and time again
attempt the ascent
to profundity
again
and then again
in hopes of distilling
just one moment
that shines
we often find ourselves
in a flow
a stream of culture
environment
and community
some are part
and experience the stream for being it
some get up on top and ride the currents
some ground themselves to the earth
and are worn down by it
as a river wears down it surroundings
and effects all that touch it
gives things life
and takes its fair share too
we are all worn down to sand in the end after all
and as a small,
perhaps largely irrelevant,
grain from the scene of now,
from the beach of cognition,
i’ll rise…
find voice
in the things that
cast me in such
an easily understood mold
with such a unique
(dare i to dream)
manifestation
and i’ll scream-
like this lost soul
that i once found myself
possessed of
and carry on with the journey
once again
in some different place
or some different time
or perhaps now-
perhaps not
it is easily within
the realm of contemporary possibility
to simply shut down
negate all
off this
nonsense
that i see
and collapse-
if you cut a salamanders heart in half
with a scalpel
it begins pumping blood again
in four minutes
the injury is totally repaired
and undetectable by dissection within
a half hour
what does it say about us that we know that
some will gasp in disgust
others will shrug and say ’so…’
i marvel at the implications
and again am amazed at the world’s complexity
of course there is always
the possibility
that one becomes fascinated
by the wound
and shows it to everyone
using it as the first definition
in cognition