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 encorcelment
of beauty.
Account for deciduous effluvia,
account for the Eastern twilight
espaliered
on the long restraints of eschatological
doctrines,
technology, 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.
#55
INTRODUCTION + POETRY + MUSIC + ESSAYS + TRAVEL + FICTION + TEXTILE ART