Paternoster Part 2 What is my world of pain? Just thinking about it, riding round and round the Paternoster. It is the pain of remembrance. The feelings, the thoughts, the understanding The knowing what I have felt has a word, phrase. Yet not quite having the language to express it. Like Helen Keller with her hand in the water Letters, urgently, in rapid succession written on the other hand. W-A-T-E-R. And through the fog bank of realization comes a reflection of a conception of what it is. Having the experience of that event in my mind, to express the inner narrative, speaking the words out loud, I am not there yet. I have a taxonomy of all the words associated with that emotion Listed in my innerness, Someday soon I will speak the spoken the words out loud, Bring innerness to birth into the outside world. This is the start. Having the letters strung into words and phrases which make up the once secret, Now de-coded language, ...
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Showing posts from February, 2018
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Diary Poem 2 Spinning in Silence A slice of silent contemplation the sky today is ice-cream blue rose candied pink with peach syrup clouds architecture is crisp in silhouette, sharp cold cut-outs, a paper stage in foam board and ink Stage of my play. Players coming in from stage left and stage right. And I’m lost up in the gods looking down and wondering when my cue might be. Momentary blip as I stand between Two posts. In the mouth of the goal But not back of the net. In a void of sound and input In a singular moment of stasis. Frozen in time. Briar Rose before everyone else wakes up A ghost who no one sees. Bustling past late looks Blond plait bobs by Curious looks. Locking doors Unlocking doors. A heated impassioned argument on the mobile In the corridor And all the while the reflection of myself looks on in white Crumpled linen. Reflected in the surface of a video Repetitious spinni...