The
Insufficiency of Words (to Express What I Mean)
I.
Like A Child
Again unsettled
“what is this,” I bellowed.
“The swollen soul so heaving!”
I
cannot escape this reasoning
This circular conflict
Of my desire pulses
Like
the very veins of mine
Pulse
with life.
This is the lie I’ve called love,
A swelling of the soul,
“A swelling that must cease or die!”
Ancient
evil of mind, many minds of men
undone,
I ache and hate thee won.
You are my omen,
My ill-fate of an unfaithful
conscience
Insufficient for your work of making
Me a man;
Fellow fall and be gone,
Ancient rebellion:
My obnoxious right arm
“Sever me!” It
cries
in mocking
vanity.
“scorn you, I do” say
under my voice
“but it’s so attached,” shouldn’t I leave
it like that?
Ancient evil, scorpion of day,
The sting, this serum,
what
A mad mix in me.
That I would rot and fall,
this
Arm that cannot save—
I am Jacob’s child, and I
Intend to keep it
that way.
But it’s here it stays,
In my intentions, in my
enduring
Days, like the folly of
all things,
Reason and Faith
play
Like children.
III.
There is a Notion, Outside of this,
Should You Choose it.
“Unless
your faith is firm,
I
cannot make you stand firm.”
Ugh! The ancient practice of
originality
Plagues us
I pray and I
forget
Or better yet
I practice
forgetfulness
On
a circuit track
Like
the sun runs it’s course;
So pray
I forget.
And
pray hard, dear brother,
Because
our minds have known
More
than we’ve intended to know.
Scrape the passion
From
behind our eyelids
They
are closed to the public
All
they see is my face.
Everything
I hate,
Is
what they make of me.
“He’s so serene” “So peaceful”
“So
self-assured”
“Do not lie to me anymore!” I yellow
Cannot
escape.
The
future licks it’s lips
A
prostitute.
An
addict.
A
place
Where fears might come true
And
dreams are spattered
At
father fear’s feet
Like
some sort of
Sacrifice.
We are
much more religious
Than
we believe.
Take
Me
To
Redemption.
(that wordless place)
the pen
I cannot escape
transcendent
ancient
as
the
f
a
c
e
I am tired of putting meaning
On
meaning things.
Wake!
Crumpled
sheets.
Shoe
laces.
Double-check
mental list.
Think
to pause
(note:
not pause to think)
drink
eat
me go; me leave
(wait!)
Have we lost our minds completely?
Have we completely lost our minds?
Rank to
me
The
structure of things
And
I will show you
What
unimportant means
<less
words
more
free>
can anyone define freedom for me?
Seriously
lacking anything
Completely
necessary
For
completing,
It
mocks.
Hour stranguage ist empozidle
(funnely
you should mention it!)
that’s
exactly what I was tinkering
to say I just couldn’t _____ the
______(s)
for it.
silly?
Trite? So it seems
to
be in our conversation, affirming
what
we just said. Inefficient?
Insufficient?
Unrelient?
Oh where are the ancients when
They
are needed!
Sweet
perfume
And
melody
What hand can stir thee?
Just
pushed along,
Many
men who are only
Noticing
what has always been.
Why so interested? It’s
Just existing.
No
big deal.
Breathe.
Laugh.
Smile.
“Hey, come’on, why still unsettled?”
(it’s
because these questions
beg
to be asked!) but you would
never
say that
Obvious, isn’t it, how simple
the simple life can be.
Yet
somewhere, far away,
A
voice is screaming
like
nails on a chalkboard
or
a horror movie
you
attempt to squeeze
out
and
clench your teeth
like a
fist
soon, you
hope, you’ll
swear that
it never even
existed (butit’sjustcrowdedoverhere
inthiscornerandit’sclaustroph
obic,blurtingobscenitiesbeca
useitreallycan’tcontrolanythi
ngit’sfeelinganymoreandally
ourdoingispushingitmoreand
moretowardstheedge…
till one day, on a normal morning, everyone
arrives, happy and good as usual, with
their coffee cups and forgotten-to-brush-in-a-rush
teeth, stained yellow from the drink.
Mid-afternoon you realize Hal never showed for the
one o’clock as you glance at his
Desk he kicks down the doors with an AK-47 and
shoots everyone who ever
smiled at him.
(there’s
some unnerved
tension
at
that thought.
How he suddenly went from a “genuinely
Good person” to “hell bent and wicked”
We all are Baptist preachers at the right
moment.
Silly, no? to think we know
those around us, to joke, to poke fun,
to spin and speak of politics in some
residential limerick that found us on the
internet and now is shaping our very
thought and decision. And we blame
our government!
When
can fault be fault.
Maybe
when truth is truth.
Truth,
the ancients seemed to get it,
“but
things now are somuchmore
complicated”
it almost says itself,
maybe
we’re just further from it.
profound?
I doubt it.
Profundity
is never what
It
seems to be.
Things
are
Much
worse.
Sorry
to be the bearer
Of
bad news.
If any of us really did get better, we
Would only die of depression and
Lonliness, worn away by the contrast
Of us from fellow men. Dangerous,
Dangerous is goodness, and any notion
Of
perfection
Can
cause the mind to play games
And now, such games,
Are
never played,
Though
they play.
We
suffer from
Denial
Maybe
all suffering
Could
be
Conceived
To
be
Summed
In
This very
Black
and white
Word:
Denial.
But I guess
that’s the funny thing
About
words
They
turn and twist
Like
a haucking
Gagging tongue
Too swollen for it’s mouth.
Here, our words reside,
Hushed.
(and
many once pointed raised hands
fall; their answer echoes against
the walls of their hearts…)
silence
is profound.
Allow
it to sneak in
To
come to fruition
And you
Will
find
The
greatest
Wrestling
match
Mankind
Will ever
Ever
Know.
The day that Jacob became
Israel,
what ends to him
We owe,
the moan of
Michelangelo, the epiphanies
Of
Thoreau,
What
rote?
What
song?
What
pirrioette?
Can lay
claim to boast of this?
That he
who hath wrestled with
God, is he
that will endureth.))
Isaiah 7:9
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