off the coast of Japan
she put her hand upon my back
unfettered, she sd
unfettered.
the mountains roll to the North, wearing the clouds,
and I come to the geography of it, the
biology of my place my city
(and I wonder)
where and when and why, and
the city spread out beneath the sky
(where we went wrong)
the mind mirror gasps at complexity, seeks out
those exquisite minutiae that mean food shelter or replication
how terrifying when the mirror met its match
when
the two mirrors facing each other, exploding
down into one another
as the mind turned round and saw itself
this is what it means to be sapiens
I'm a poet.
I've no time to argue the necessity of empirical observation.
my obsession are the liminal lifelights
when we stopped thinking mammal
started singing God.
the particular path to revelation is without meaning
the journey is all
readiness
So I come back to my city, my geography
off the coast of Japan
Place is my home.
Burrard comes up, splitting the city
and the diesel tankers glide between the lions,
gorging their bellies on wheat.
Hometown, even
my bones know it—
like an old lover
new and familiar, always
still it comes back to her word
unfettered.
Trapped in the explosion of mirrors
self-awareness is.
Beyond the traffic of it, beyond
the honking whining bitching
in the heat
Downtown, there is Place
beside the concrete courthouse,
to reflect
the Buddha sits with right hand on left
all others opposite
because the right is the hand of action, must be still
here's something
we know here, off the coast of Japan,
the penalty of action.
we know it more ways than I have words to write them
it remains then, to live
left-handed.
* * *
Dr. Maud sd
'no-one wants to learn any longer, for the sake of it'
I leaned across the table, sd
'I do'
the consequences are, of course,
enormous
to commit is to dig your feet in, not be
budged.
Escape? go ask the bean sandwich
Prozac possibility delights not me
no, nor woman neither; though, by your smiling...
The trap is not that we have problems
but that we have problems that we have problems
off the coast of Japan
only a small step to India
the mirrors' echo:
BAOUM BAOUM
repeat ad nauseam
it is not to solve problems but leave them
o my people!
those caves would shout back silence
and with silence comes
peace with peace
bliss
this, my people,
is what it means to be God!
off the coast of Japan—my Hometown
she put her hand upon my shoulder, peace
she sd
bliss
unfettered
the lady, Orlando
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Brilliant! I’m so happy to discover your writings!