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#1
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Form is a trap and an illusion.
Form is crucial and necessary. To feel--fully feel--while thinking, really thinking ... is revolutionary. To open up is to play with finger paints. This is no brainstorm. My whole body is involved. Play is serious business. + + + They met in the Plaza. Had never seen one another before. Both were the death of art, of fiction, of poetry. Both knew form in formlessness & vice versa as an inescapable fact and uncontainable mystery--the heart of every glistening moment--, met each other as that. They did not speak. They weren't on meds. They had escaped the prison of normalcy and abnormality. Their dazzling freedom was no affront, needn't moltov coctail or advertise. Silently, having just met, they sought each other's gaze and held it. They had never seen one another before. They came to the dance and held still for it, gazing. [ To be continued ] |
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#2
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We grow weary and bored
not with "the mundane" nor even the familiar but with our own stale habits of perception. The trick is to forgive ourselves. |
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#3
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[I have a "blog" here called River's Blog. This is just a sort of public sketch book for scribbles done nakedly in public -- though sometimes I'm actually wearing clothes. Don't get too literal!]
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#4
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Okay, what this place needs just now is a good soup recipe. Got one?
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#5
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Quote:
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#6
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Whichever -- or both -- please.
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#7
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Remember honey bees when you were little? When they were utterly new?
Wildflowers, couds, lizards, turtles? Utterly new? At any moment we can draw such a breath. Why wait? How deep is this breath? How free? |
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#8
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(Since I had a layer of poly-struggle in writing this poem, it seemed appropriate to post.)
I don't know which Me to Be. The Me who is overly emotional - or so it would seem - or the Me who holds it back, and in, and together? The Me who shares herself, completely and intensely or the Me who closes off - (insert above adverbs). I have no middle ground here where the real Me is shaped and jaded and sheared and shattered. Every time I choose a Me and Be - it seems I've made another mistake, chosen wrong again, and You're unhappy with Me or some form of fucked-up vice versa where I'm unhappy with Me. I don't know how to figure Me out without disfiguring You. All these Mes around. The Me that I dream of Being (full-time) is the one causing the most trouble. I'm afraid to make another wrong choice. So You choose the Me for a while, would You?
__________________
Born This Way |
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#9
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I know some things about some people.
I know that most have questions and few have answers. a few openly use others, a few aren't open about that at all, and a few find themselves used a little too often. some want in it, others want out of it, and there are those that just want to make it through. some are in love...for the first time some are in love...still some are in lust some, in limbo. those who don't get enough sleep. those who get too much sleep. those who cry themselves to sleep. there are a couple who are so open that it makes me want to cry and there are a couple who are so closed that it makes me want to cry. a lot who make me want to sigh. some have been addicts to this or that. some still are. several have grown, are growing, need to grow - and others who have been touched, are touching, need to touch. some love being parents, some do not. some never want to. some can't at all. some have hurt me, some I've hurt. there are those who struggle doggy-paddle-like in the pool of happiness and a lucky few who take laps, cutting through the water like warm knives and butter. some knew me before, some know me now.... few can claim both..... 2 don't know me at all. 4 love pets over people. 2 hang in there without medication. 5 can find laughter every day.... 5 can't. 1 was brave enough to make amends and 1 did it and became a best friend. 1 doesn't believe in God a few more just don't get him 3 absolutely do and a 4th gets that I do too and then there are those who are like I am and use a different name for him. Half are stuck in ruts in their lives, ruts that span a wide spectrum.... half don't seem to be stuck at all, never have as a matter of fact. I've felt love for many, and have had it in return from a few. I know some things about some people. So many of them are different from me. So many the same as. It's good to know I'm not alone.
__________________
Born This Way |
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#10
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There you are.
Behind the invisible wall. On the other side of the imposed boundary. There you are. Every day. There, but not. Here, but not. I can see you, nothing more. No other senses are allowed. Snow White encased in glass. I can look all I want. And I do. It's the only sense I have to use while you exist on the other side of the invisible wall. There.
__________________
Born This Way |
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