Existence
"Existence precedes essence"
-Jean-Paul Sartre
Pupa
A sanctuary
of isolation
spun out of
wistful threads
Outside:
the wind
and the world
spin their circles
Inwardly:
spherical asylum
of silence
Desperate fingers
strenously eroding
The walls of this prison
Muted mouth interlaced
with its walls
On this stalk of life
We all hang separately,
isolated and encapsulated
unitedly scratching the walls
Shared dreams
upon resting corneas:
exhuberantly
fluttering butterflies;
dreams of what
we will become
I am 'woman'
Send your subtractive labels
to where no sun shines
For I am 'woman'
I am more than:
bloodshed, birthed child, tidy house
I am.
I am.
I AM!
Watch this eye watch the world
watch this mouth
with its wit;
this hand with a pen;
this foot on the earth
watch me fill my soul
with glorious experience
histogenesis:
'woman' to 'sister'- you: 'brother'
We are.
We are.
We ARE!
Life's path
Existence is:
parallel possibilities
Choice
or guidance
is the question
If in mind choosing
but by holy force
being pushed:
Does it make a difference?
The path will
be but one:
Long,
dusty,
dry
Cloud of sand
stirred up
by boundless walking,
blurring vision
and instinct
Such is life,
such is life,
such is life
So push me
or I'll choose-
whatever it may be
My face:
a dot on the horizon
Black Hole Me
Black Hole Me
There is an
empty space
within us
Untouched;
unexplored
A gut-wrenching
fear of falling
as we reach there:
'The Black Hole
of the mind'
Around its center:
memories in orbit
silently drawn
to the void
A seventh birthday;
a teenaged kiss;
blood-covered children
brought to our arms
All life lived:
Silently awaiting
its slaughter
Reformation
I was searching within:
a mirrored sphere
All even,
Clinically perfect
Tensions in the glass,
Shattered surface
Imperfect self;
Broken me
Interconnected,
Displaced shards:
Aspects of identity
Now in orderly line
Epiphany:
An empty space
Blank canvas,
Primordial me