ive been walking around
in the halls of your mind
while you wander wondering
occasionally, frequently
smiling my way
and that smile
its a wonder i dont
crumble and break
my heart palpably pangs
our string of moments
alternating
saturation and scattered
brings the sweet apple flesh
and then turns a bruised low brown
then youre testing my memory
while your feet keep your indian knees
from busting loose their gird
your bottom lip turns
red from your teeth
and you're laughing
while asking me
what was that dream?
who was that man?
why was he pointing at me?
my lips start to part
the corners rise up
my teeth show some skin
and laughter trumpets
well worn melodies
of hope and renewal
and faith in a beating heart
for i have forgotten
the details you lay out before us
like unwished on wishbones
and you calm down
as if my perfect memory
could cause detonation, decay
but im just spinning my yarn
some facts try, some lie
there is a well up of tar
ill probably fall down there and fry
in the raw sunbeams of your eyes
drought follows rain
and i dont know what i know
except the dense little pebble of us
that can never never go
"in the poetry of the poet and in the thinking of the thinker, there is always so much worldspace to share that each and every thing - a tree, a mountain, a house, the call of a bird - completely loses its indifference and familiarity." - martin heidegger
i, i, i
- steven
- "Seeing that before long I must confront humanity with the most difficult demand ever made of it, it seems indispensable to me to say who I am. Really, one should know it, for I have not left myself "without testimony." But the disproportion between the greatness of my task and the smallness of my contemporaries has found expression in the fact that one has neither heard nor even seen me. I live on my own credit; is it perhaps a mere prejudice that I live? ... I need only to speak with one of the "educated" who come to the Upper Engadine for the summer, and I am convinced that I do not live ... Under these circumstances I have a duty against which my habits, even more the pride of my instincts, revolt at bottom, namely, to say: Hear me! For I am such and such a person. Above all, do not mistake me for someone else!" - Nietzsche, Ecce Homo
No comments:
Post a Comment