lead me far from the mainland: i have need no more for their custom. gore these umbilical cords i share: i no longer need their worldview, i have forsaken them they have, me
writhing akrobatics! i whip my flagellated tail and prance defiantly into the danger zone, where the crispness leeches onto my body and i shudder in view of the sincerity i have forsaken for this
my life has terribly been choked, ab ovo in principio, nothing, was i, but a mere ghost. caged-in oneirataxia: i cannot distinguish ( i was a saddened victim of kalopsia ) these prefab worlds: one, real the other, an illusion
my life has captured me and coerced me - prisoner with blackened post 'round my neck wrenching exposure and blemish me. but there, there is a light past corridor's end and i see it, theoretically, finally and i remember the one good thing to come from Pandora's folly: hope.
i no longer need their choices which have guided me past with harm i can fight alone without their armor which never did fit right, to start rummaging for the undertow in this ocean to take me far from home where i am embraced by my prime their volition: no more
À Corps Perdu, from the French, explicitly translates to ‘with lost body’; idiomatically, it defines as “desperately” and begs meaning from the phrase “to throw one’s heart and soul into something”. I have considered À Corps Perdu as a rueful plea for something more — something unhoped or unlooked for — anything challenging and new to get rid of the old… because you’ve been enlightened and have realised: their world has nothing for you. You must find another — by yourself, for yourself.
oneirataxia: the incapability to distinguish dreamstate from real life.
this poem was inspired by D. Burke Mahoney's "Sleep Inertia": dburkemahoney.com/sleep-inertia-video