Inbetween Line

in the heart there is a hole and into this hole stars are falling, nothing escapes, not even light; it is perfectly black like the mouth of a long and narrow street inlaid with black cobblestones, and walking along this cobblestone street, you suddenly enter your childhood.

outside in the haze a mist encloses a green-blue mountain, your heart is reverbrating with the rushing water of a swift-flowing stream. you are swept by an irresistible current, a mystic pull of words and not of stardust but of space-time, the inside of which is black with smoke.

there is a hole in the heart, around it time is twisted up like a whirlpool that traces a fantastic motion cast like leaves on swirling water: reality is simply that i am sitting in this room which is black with smoke; reality is myself; reality is only the perception of an instant; reality exists through experience.

outside, a damp mist spreads over the valley and the trunks of the distant ginkgo trees silhouetted by the light becomes gentler. it is then that the mountain manifests itself and all around a thick darkness closes in a never-ending implosion, at the event horizon, the pull of gravity becomes infinite.

in the heart there is a hole, a black hole where the future leads only inward and the darkness is so palpable it is a wall. there is no road back, only the tangled mass of unerased consciousness, the cold nonexistence of hyperspace. the mind reels, begs for a metaphor, a lifeline to the familiar.

but outside, a sprawling mist hangs like a blazing ring around the hole, a curtain of smoke terrified of the other shore with its unmoving eyes, bright black eyes seeing right to the heart, and a deathly loneliness prevails behind the curtained doorway. beyond the gates, the surging of the river and the soughing of the night wind all seem to be flowing from my heart.

[Original Post Date: 10/29/2002]

* * *

This is a found poem.

(Get Your Own) Holy Grail by Spiraling

Open the door but watch your step
Try not to trip on your regrets
As you walk towards my hold grail
You know how I feel about growing up
So you find me hovering above
Where I can stay frail
You might be right
That I’m not that bright
And you think you’ll win without a fight

But you are never gonna open me up
And you are never gonna make me give it up
No, you are never gonna open me up
Oh no

I live to drink and I drink to live
But that’s all the inflow that I will give
A bum, a never ending drive
What you just said is not what you think
Because the cup from which I drink
Is the thing that keeps me alive

There you are
Clear as day
Hot as hell
But even in snow I will say to you
Get your own holy grail

‘Cause you are never gonna open me up
And you are never gonna make me give it up
No, you are never gonna open me up
Oh no

Open the door but watch your step
Try not to trip on your regrets
As you walk towards my open grave
You might be right
That I’m not that bright
And you think you’ll win without a fight

But you are never gonna open me up
And you are never gonna make me give it up
No, you are never gonna make me give up

No, you are never gonna open me up
And you are never gonna make me give it up
No, you are never gonna open me up
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no

Spiral Bound

emptiness lies in the wilderness
of green youth spent beneath brown trees,
watching leaves fall.

life must be superfluous then, untimely
crossings of the river.

one night the lamp fell out the moon,
this maple dystopia politely asked for light
to shed my skin of gauze and bandages.

it was something i had never beheld

this felling of leaves clinging
to pull a touch — it yearns to fly.

in autumn something happens like the choosing
of words to write, a rite to loosening ties;

lost in the chemical
splash of neon lights, books have been written
to describe the descent of a leaf.

all night leaves fell outside this bedside
yarn like an eternal stream of sentences;
a word too falls through so much space
before a page catches it, immortalizes it,

discards it.

[Original Post Date: Unknown]