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Monday, July 29, 2013

Birth canal * 7/29/13


For having labored down my birth canal,
contracted into first acts of self denial,
a first sense of self-exile,
placed upon an altar of false attention,
rendered, interpreted,
introduced to distraction as learned existence,
maximally visceral but diminishing,
yet more kinesthetic by invitation.
I am boundless energy,
assumed to be seeking containment.
I am open to an endless array
as if interest is activity,
struggling with edges and boundaries,
flatly isolated from before,
prompted for these interactionals,
given tidbits from home.
I am only a full cauldron of being,
longing for the ocean of spirit,
overwhelmed by the pronunciation of fear,
the commitment to symbols,
to eventual language but not truth.
I am blessed and cursed by what is inferred,
eventually swayed by temporality's appeal,
bound by repetition's insistence,
driven to disguised sensitivity,
developing an affect of being.
I am propelled by stories,
preparing for their roles
exchange with others
who are rarely presence.
I am living before conclusion's toll,
promoting as if pain offends,
polarized by confusing self demands,
bleak through the mediums
that lengthen time.
I am experienced
as if the journey's loot,
wandering amongst wanderers,
soulful before response.
When does inception's closure end?


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