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Saturday, September 30, 2017

rest assured 9/30/17

the water of intimate aloneness
feels so warm
in contrast to being
the heir of isolation from others
that feels so stark and numbing cold
here, conscious breathing is
the rich conversation
there, is a landscape of skin
in downward perusal before me
a rolling terrain lays straight away
as body in full view
this could be a benchmark,
a timeline,
or a state of the art
it is not as stark a set of remarks
as a mirror reflecting
there, is a cast of both visual’s soothe
and deception’s reign
no matter,
in this momentary view,
not considering weight loss
or surgery rebuttal
just being my own quilt
of comfort before me
in the world-sense of aging,
painlessness is then
a deduced passive form of pleasure
this is how
to come in the feeling

of rest assured . . .

Friday, September 29, 2017

stillness (haiku) 9/29/17

the myth of stillness:
asking yourself to be still?

motor, still running

Thursday, September 28, 2017

high-contrast as experience 9/28/17

the nature of high contrast as experience
is a comparative truth harvest of crap-ola.
it is a memory lock-down for future reference profiling.
it becomes an overly used skill set
as a perceptual style for viewing of the external world.
it under-dimensionalizes full spectrum experience usage.
it is the imprint of familiarity as imprisonment,
the syntactical capture of gross reality formatting.
it is a faint sliver in a canyon wound,
or a wooden ocean-liner in the backyard pool,
the depiction of death on a calculator screen’s tally,
a herd of platitudes as migratory conversation in passing,
or movie theater mentality as a sense of favorable account.
it is sensory detainment for conclusive judgment review.
it is the daily wearing of the same perfume
until the neighborhood reeks of silent resentment.
it is the fear reflex feeding on the popcorn of the moment,
the cutting edge of decision-making as a dull blade exercise,
the fighting off the mundanity of daily life’s offerings
with full blown cathartic activity as floggings.
it is glandular stimulations from external onslaughts,
attention-grabs as acceptable anxiety attacks,
issue-bound topics producing under-breath cursing
and if I had a gun-logic in reactive mentality.
it is the joy of psycho-tourism of emotional unsteadiness.
it is a drug of choice without even decision staging,
as the vortex of audience induced capitalism.
it is a version of selfie-poker played amongst friends,
a lay-away spectator-intelligence made popular over time,
as the making of spectatorship aficionados, common place.
it makes subtlety in need of red flags and fog horns.
it means that the nature of experience
now has a voluminous prop room of discovery.
high-contrast as experience is hell,
experiencing, as of itself,
is essentially only a timely audience perspective,
dressed in varied preferable wardrobes,
readied for shocking, reflective,
first-person review . . .







Wednesday, September 27, 2017

blesson (haiku) 9/27/17

blessing and lesson
not one without the other
whichever comes first


Tuesday, September 26, 2017

the breath-pause 9/26/17

I have this curtain of breathing
that brushes up against me
almost as interrupting
but not really quite that way.
it is more like a side-car awareness
that gets my attention.
occasionally overcome
with the vast uncertainty it implies,
as if curtain falls, curtain rises,
change of mood perspective.
I am sure everybody does this
but maybe not keenly aware.
sure all of this shifted attention
seems suddenly relevant.
this breath pause awareness feels intimate
yet no content.
maybe it is actually an empty-philosophical
of self aware.
maybe it is somewhat summational
reflecting circumstance.
a small inward voice,
asking about the meaning of life,
caught in a momentous engulfment,
yet flooding the day.
there is no share for this with anyone else.
any attempt falsifies the feel of the moment.
sure another can read it off,
happening to another person,
but there is no intervention
as if in a conversation.
empathy is a fair but silent at-a-distance response.
I can imagine holding this as sacred,
though unexpected,
while others could have this
as apprehension approaching.
I have seen others turn this into a grandiose sigh,
still others, frozen in their own tracks,
almost unaware.
it seems to be a deeper breath than normal.
maybe a make-up breath
for constant shallow breathing,
but also an emotional segue
otherwise not announced.
it makes me think of deep ocean creatures
surfacing for air,
that kind of need we all have
in the grand scheme of things,
buried in the overwhelm of being,
as a self-conscious person,
having pause-breath interludes . . .