Blind Self-Portrait (19/04/21)
To walk into a room & see your face upon the wall. Drawn six
months ago. Alone. It makes me question:
who am I in a room of strangers? The old I having been shed. Left
in the river.
It makes me wonder why all reflections differ… Is this me? Or this I?
Inside the paper-mirror.
Along the bitumen lines. The long road. Waves come in.
Will you go all the way? All the way? All the way in?
Wandering into a room, with my face up on the wall, I can't help
but feel like a guest to my own life. A dream. Awakening.
/ I AM
I am stood in this room
I am speaking to you
I am the colour
I am wearing on this day
I am the desk that I write on
I am the paper I speak from
I am the person who walked from here to there
I am the person who walked from there to here
I am an open invitation to nowhere
I am a step away from elsewhere
I am all the doors I’ve been through
all the doors to come
I am the (open) window
from which I escaped from
I am an out of tune C major
I am the blue in a blue-bottle fly
I am the one who survived
I am grateful to all my lies
I am the shadow’s shadow
the light the birthed that shadow
I am the silence words wrap around
the words I look up and forget
I am the un in unknowing
the ledge in knowledge
I am the inner chapters of my parent’s dream
I am the unwritten poem inside of me
I am a whispered-agreement
participation-in-mystery
poet of repeated-recitation
I am the question mark to wonder
the artist who copied the source
I am free and easy wandering
I am a man amongst men.
I am enlightened by laughter
foundling of darkness
I am a picul
most peculiar
unfettered
unfed
I am what I can’t let go of
a shade of almost green
I am buried 4 feet deep
I am whatever you say I am
I am the promise that holds the lie
I am a book with
a changing end
Am I awake?
/ Film
/ The Great Dreaming
“I must go to bed in order to wake up.”
A dream is the broken wings of a bird that cannot fly during the day. But at night, appears whole. Unbroken. A sliver of daylight in its beak.
A dream begins in sleep. From the blindness that looks back at us. Behold us. Beckons us to turn inward. Toward the phantom of yester-day.
In this way
a dream is like an egg waiting to hatch.
A dream is the song that speaks from the other side. Shades in the shadow: enters the room before you. Greets you. Welcomes you in.
A dream is what happens when you forget to be who you say you are. Dice thrown down on the table. Sun tilting into darkness. Crows cry. Oxen’s baleful eye.
Moon beneath the water.
A dream is a continuation of the end. The beginning of the great unravelling. The start of a new day.
In this way, a dream is like a salmon swimming upstream. Torsional back coursing through water. The plink of an eye. Life slipping through the cracks.
Comentários