Chapter 2 - poem two day 1 ---this time of chaos--
Submitted April 1, 2016 Updated April 1, 2016 Status Incomplete | I'm calling poetry abstract art without color :D this is a great place to post my Napo creations, with the chapter system and all.
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Chapter 2 - poem two day 1 ---this time of chaos--
Chapter 2 - poem two day 1 ---this time of chaos--
munching arugla
as a dog of matted wool sleeps
in a chaos of inheirited down comfortor [down quilt]
on a bed too tall for comfort, abandoned but not yet escaped.
the sun shines in through thriftshop curtains
wild colored flowers mixing with leaf shadows, oh how the dappled shade always soothes the soul, feels like home
home is what I feel I have never had, never have, alway long for.
In church, we claim this longing reminds us of God.
In church I feel alone and homeless
even more in the mocking contrast between the words and the actions
of my dear sisters there,
yet I beleive.
I have drifted into the abstract swirling chaos of my thought
but chaos is fractal-slime, the pimordial growth medium of creation.
it will bear fruit: this I know.
it always does in due time
I have become more patient.
that is to say,
I still condemn myself for being slow and sloppy
but also know that being free and spontanious is a gift others praise and envy,
being also careful and cautious and perfectionistic
can in itself be good.
everything has a good side and a bad side,
seeds of it’s own destruction.
the shadow of it’s own opposite, like halves of a whole
like whole…complete…full
and hole…hollow…empty..void…carved out by the lies sold as Gospel truth [my name is truth]
I will in due time swirl it all long enough that crystals form and fall
Into places.
A place for everything, and everything into it’s place
put for now, for the time being [which is being now]
I take the box and drop the jigsaw pieces on a small swatch of roughly cleared floor
—-out of the box—
sort the bits into edges, colors and textures
turn them all face up and calculate the perimeter
find a board large enough
and set aside a place-in-time to put it all in place until the crystals form.
as a dog of matted wool sleeps
in a chaos of inheirited down comfortor [down quilt]
on a bed too tall for comfort, abandoned but not yet escaped.
the sun shines in through thriftshop curtains
wild colored flowers mixing with leaf shadows, oh how the dappled shade always soothes the soul, feels like home
home is what I feel I have never had, never have, alway long for.
In church, we claim this longing reminds us of God.
In church I feel alone and homeless
even more in the mocking contrast between the words and the actions
of my dear sisters there,
yet I beleive.
I have drifted into the abstract swirling chaos of my thought
but chaos is fractal-slime, the pimordial growth medium of creation.
it will bear fruit: this I know.
it always does in due time
I have become more patient.
that is to say,
I still condemn myself for being slow and sloppy
but also know that being free and spontanious is a gift others praise and envy,
being also careful and cautious and perfectionistic
can in itself be good.
everything has a good side and a bad side,
seeds of it’s own destruction.
the shadow of it’s own opposite, like halves of a whole
like whole…complete…full
and hole…hollow…empty..void…carved out by the lies sold as Gospel truth [my name is truth]
I will in due time swirl it all long enough that crystals form and fall
Into places.
A place for everything, and everything into it’s place
put for now, for the time being [which is being now]
I take the box and drop the jigsaw pieces on a small swatch of roughly cleared floor
—-out of the box—
sort the bits into edges, colors and textures
turn them all face up and calculate the perimeter
find a board large enough
and set aside a place-in-time to put it all in place until the crystals form.
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