unchained melody

 

The little things in life

Matter, surprisingly –

And notice the mind

Constantly saying otherwise

Constantly

– directing us to look to size

and magnitude – directing

us to follow the trajectory

of things – constantly

things that trigger other things

complex, massive, byzantine

directing us, God forbid, not

to examine the void in which,

we are told, all things apparently

float

whether space

or time – or third,

and most surprising of all –

the void between the mind itself

and everything it does not,

can not know – a wilderness

of thought which conveniently

we are unable, mostly,

to observe: unless, that is,

we start to sense that things

are not quite what they seem:

that I is not quite the same as

me; that the least is, in some respects

equal to the most, or may even

exceed by orders of magnitude

the power of brute force

or intellectual prowess.

 

Period.

A breather, if you wouldn’t

mind.

Period.

A dot. An interregnum

of sorts.

Nothing much, and yet,

here, in the space between words

I am able – stop – i is able to say

more than words larded and

loaded with matter and meaning

and mind-y-ness

 

hush – little one – hush

we’re feeling our way back

to a quantum state

of not-quite-known – neither here

nor there-d-ness

a place where She,

the mother of All,

or it – the presence

of something infinite,

can be felt, can be breathed,

experienced or known

if i is willing to capitulate,

to recognize the fact I, capitalized,

never wanted to hear, feel or know,

not truly – not if that meant

unseating myself – forfeiting my primacy:

not if that meant recognizing

the extent to which I is part

of whatever it observes,

the extent to which I constantly

generates mathematical sets of things

which do not, in themselves,

exist

 

Ah…

 

i knows more than it wishes to

acknowledge

but take nothing I say on trust – test

it yourself

ask and you shall hear

seek and you shall find

behold the fallacy of things

crumble before your mind’s

simple, childlike scrutiny – if

you are willing to behold

what I does everything in its power

not to see…

 

Who can blame it?

Who indeed?

When, as far as I is concerned,

there lies death – the dissolution

of everything I believes it needs to be

in order to hold things in place,

and hold the other in check –

the other 

that which seeks, or so we feel,

to tear asunder all that mind’s I has

drawn together and united – a

universe of things

without which i would be forced,

once again, to face my maker,

to engage the merciless forces

of infinity – or so we fear,

so we think

sub-consciously

if truth

be told

if truth be

ytold

 

yet breath i breathe

ineffably

and something small and peaceful

tells me to test

the hypothesis of breath

to test the meaning

of being willing to learn

more than things can tell

of being willing to taste

the ocean’s salt

and slip between the folded

sheets of

infinity

so help me

god

 

 

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