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"reifying" poems
Still more, in words In experience Confusing Familiarity with Comfort Confusing Comfort with Peace Reifying confusion, but not successfully Yielding, on my knees, heart to the sky Forgetting Seeing through, a single pinhole in a perfectly realistic backdrop Pinholes everywhere, more than can be contained Not containing Torn all over Dispelling everything Stripping away the Stripping away Trying to stand very still and very quite so I can feel, hear, sense Perfect realism Wanting to be convinced by rage Agitation, but only conceptual Feeling tight Feeling rehearsed Feeling like an imposter Wanting to impress Wanting to be convinced of Self, of Realness Fortified by others knowing, or preferably- admiration Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, likes, thumbs up Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse Compassion, like collapsing into a safe lap Relinquishing No pretense Bare being More naked than when unclothed Total exposure Outed, in the light of knowing Self forgetting and glimpses of freedom Trusting sighing Always loving Sad, not despondent, just sad Feeling continuous Feeling fragmented Feeling like motion, like flow Feeling like thousands of still frames, constant flickering Grasping at impermanence, visceral Resting in the middle Dancing down the tightrope Knowing perfect poise, brief equilibrium Reifying stability. Gone. Everything is hysterically funny Hysterically But also, sometimes, just plain humorous And absurd Crying Loving people Grateful for people Seeing beauty everywhere Encountering this, intimate, me, indistinguishable being, but everywhere Ouch Awareness Always coming back Like an epic Like a great love story Like the last wring of that silk dress you weren't supposed to squeeze dry Feeling like I shouldn't know what I know, like I couldn't. This must be illegal, cosmically illegal Knowing the inside of my hand Knowing teenage shame Knowing being yelled at, towered over, by my dad, in a narrow hallway, eyes glued to speckled floor tiles, feeling small Loving with my body, with my hands, with my mouth, with my whole entire strong softness Loving with understanding Loving with teeth and nails Music, lacerating Crying with tears, and snot, and heaving Becoming one single, concentrated point Wanting to envelope everything. Really. Actually. Like physically with my body. Knowing I am not this voice Or this writer Or this narrator Though I am also all that
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Aug 6, 2022
Aug 6, 2022 at 12:07 AM UTC
vi-2
Being is like this
Still more, in words In experience Confusing Familiarity with Comfort Confusing Comfort with Peace Reifying confusion, but not successfully Yielding, on my knees, heart to the sky Forgetting Seeing through, a single pinhole in a perfectly realistic backdrop Pinholes everywhere, more than can be contained Not containing Torn all over Dispelling everything Stripping away the Stripping away Trying to stand very still and very quite so I can feel, hear, sense Perfect realism Wanting to be convinced by rage Agitation, but only conceptual Feeling tight Feeling rehearsed Feeling like an imposter Wanting to impress Wanting to be convinced of Self, of Realness Fortified by others knowing, or preferably- admiration Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, likes, thumbs up Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse Compassion, like collapsing into a safe lap Relinquishing No pretense Bare being More naked than when unclothed Total exposure Outed, in the light of knowing Self forgetting and glimpses of freedom Trusting sighing Always loving Sad, not despondent, just sad Feeling continuous Feeling fragmented Feeling like motion, like flow Feeling like thousands of still frames, constant flickering Grasping at impermanence, visceral Resting in the middle Dancing down the tightrope Knowing perfect poise, brief equilibrium Reifying stability. Gone. Everything is hysterically funny Hysterically But also, sometimes, just plain humorous And absurd Crying Loving people Grateful for people Seeing beauty everywhere Encountering this, intimate, me, indistinguishable being, but everywhere Ouch Awareness Always coming back Like an epic Like a great love story Like the last wring of that silk dress you weren't supposed to squeeze dry Feeling like I shouldn't know what I know, like I couldn't. This must be illegal, cosmically illegal Knowing the inside of my hand Knowing teenage shame Knowing being yelled at, towered over, by my dad, in a narrow hallway, eyes glued to speckled floor tiles, feeling small Loving with my body, with my hands, with my mouth, with my whole entire strong softness Loving with understanding Loving with teeth and nails Music, lacerating Crying with tears, and snot, and heaving Becoming one single, concentrated point Wanting to envelope everything. Really. Actually. Like physically with my body. Knowing I am not this voice Or this writer Or this narrator Though I am also all that
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