INTRODUCTION + POETRY + MUSIC + ESSAYS + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART + HAAG'S BIO
Everything grows quieter and quieter. Emptiness
opens out, deepens. I
breathe. I
am alone. My world is within.
You are in my world.
I
hear your song, feel your struggle.
My throat opens, muscles ache.
I
move, sway, and the world moves.
The tsunami erupts, sweeps,
climbs. I
Acknowledge the earthquakes in the soul.
Breaking waves
flood the world. I
move within Scissy's disappearing forest,
submerge.
The Mont appears, sands flood, I
rein in, restrain thought and emptiness.
Don't let the waves of
excitement
stampede the docile tides of enlightenment.
Linger in
the foam, gently endure.
Don't let tidal or oceanic energy
droop
with the tef of enervation.
Don't allow for the delicious
encorcellment
of beauty. Account for deciduous effluvia,
account
for the Eastern twilight espaliered
on the long restraints of
eschatological
doctrines, technologies, on the vulnerable
escutcheons
of time and the soul's evisceration.
I have to begin wearing emptiness
out: my things, my rugs, my
clothes, my ideas, get on within
realms of silence, silently
refuse my
chattering mind, the shimmering, gossamer
struggle.
Accept the perpetual forgetfulness, annoyance, my
untied
shoe laces. With youth moves
chosen and unchosen dramatic
impediments. My
braking-down matches a soothed, slowing soul.
Do
everything twice! Kicking! Screaming! My
only choice is to agree,
submerge
into depths where difficulties create my
blind, groping, disappointed acceptance of emptiness.
There's no
point in challenging the frequency
or the inevitable, maddening,
continuing fractiousness
of a recalcitrant universe of
fractal
laws that no futility or fury
might allay. My
fulminations, fortitude, forgiveness
mean nothing. Fear, fire or
future
will, with undreamt difficulties, reach, fetch
my
frustrated soul from its fetishes
of reason, justice, logic,
illusion, facade.
Slowly I stitch, I precisely re-fabricate
a
simple soul, a fetal fullness.
Within this daunting, echoing, unperceivable emptiness
no dragons or
snakes bite me.
Nor do they bless me within.
My silent beating
heart sustains me.
My gentle breath gives up struggle.
Whatever I
have had abandons me.
Nothing is perceivable. Even nothing
moves.
There is nothing such as I.
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INTRODUCTION + POETRY + MUSIC + ESSAYS + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART