It was like a voice
It told me to wake up,
Get up and get away from the ground.
This is not the place.
This is not the way.

It told me you are not insane,
You have so much to play.
We all get discouraged from time to time
We always have people saying it can't done.
Creating interjections like impossible! and undoable!

That voice woke me up,
It shook me out and tore me down.
That voice has sung me to sleep
and has screamed at me obscenities.

But that voice and that voice alone
has made me, me.
That's why I love her.
She is my symphony, my scene, my hands,
But most of all she is my voice.

The excerpt below is from an interview Philip Roth gave to Daniel Sandstrom, the cultural editor at Svenska Dagbladet, for publication in Swedish translation in that newspaper, and in its original English in the Book Review of the New York Times (March 1, 2014).

It was laid out in normal article (paragraph) form, but I chose to re-present here, line by line, sentence by sentence, for it struck me as I first read it, as a prose poem, and a source of inspiration for me.  But then I realized, I could not improve upon his words, just risk diminishing them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The struggle with writing is over” is a recent quote. Could you describe that struggle, and also, tell us something about your life now when you are not writing?

Everybody has a hard job.
All real work is hard.
My work happened also to be undoable.
Morning after morning for 50 years,
I faced the next page
defenseless and unprepared.
Writing for me was a feat of self-preservation.
If I did not do it, I would die.

So I did it.
Obstinacy, not talent, saved my life.
It was also my good luck that
happiness didn’t matter to me
and I had no compassion for myself.
Though why such a task
should have fallen to me I have no idea.
Maybe writing protected me
against even worse menace.

Now?
Now I am a bird sprung from a cage
instead of (to reverse Kafka’s famous conundrum)
a bird in search of a cage.
The horror of being caged has lost its thrill.
It is now truly a great relief,
something close to a sublime experience,
to have nothing more
to worry about than death.
-------------------------------------------------------------­--­---

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/16/books/review/my-life-as-a-writer.html?_r=0

Is it indubitably unsuitable
to be suitably incommunicable
on the undeducible deduction
dubitably deduced
to be immovably unmovable
or doably undoable?

Or can a crazy conundrum communicate
the incommunicable indubitabilty
of the undeducibly suitable deduction?

Simply said,
such is doably suitable,
or indubitably deducible
if the doably communicable deduction

deduces down
to the suitably suitable,
Movably reducible reduction
that's indubitably doable.

Seeking the unseekable,
Falling up,
Melting into solid,
Cloning the uncloneable,
Finding the unfindable,
Doing the undoable,
Living while dead,
I have been impossible.

God I love you
your truth and lies
I wish I could *******
looking in your inky I's

Yet alas, it's undoable
But I'll touch you
manipulate you
bite you

and even though you can be
cruel, you are my tool.
Please never ever ever
ever ever
leave me

Even the pipilikas maybe
kept an ear to the ground
and heard the men on earth’s
news of the year: it works!
Pfizer-BioNTech jab is out.

Finally the Covid-19
vaccine is on our hand
life hopefully will soon be normal!

Along with everyone else me too
is absolutely over the moon
yet something I can’t forget.
Like how that came months ago
on 27 Ramadan 2020 in London.
I was still in sleep in the morning
in a dream but turned out to be real
indeed touched by lovely safest hands
promptly vaccinated me there and then.

Know not how that could key out
off the safe the trillion dollar vaccine at first!
All I know when that hands of love tie a knot
it becomes the undoable perfect circle.

They're not undoable
but they are reversible
if you stop and realize

that braille on your skin
meant for the blind
cannot be read
by those who cannot feel

shouting at deaf ears
will only rob you
of your voice
and drown out anyone
who cares

There is no way
to take away
inflicted pain with more

second chances
  third chances
      fourth chances
     renewed trusts
replenished damaged belief
               pride and prejudice
hurt and sadness
           fifth chances...
      making up
               making out
        waking up half ashamed
             walking out half naked
     walking off the emptiest night of your lives
                      forcing a smile
                  pretending to be fine
         pretending to be fine
                                pretending to be fine
            pretending to be fine
                 lying            
                     knuckling under
                                       lying
                                falling behind
                          pretending to believe each other
               trustfalls
                   with
                      a
                 harness
                          trust
                         falling
                          apart
trust broken forever.
       sixth chances...
                 tears-----
          weeping-----
           sobbing-----
                    gnashing of teeth-----
   staring into the mirror blankly at 3am
               crying yourself up until 9
glass shard pressed smoothly
                                                     against your wrist
                                            total darkness...      
                               undoable sadness...
                      uncurable brokenness...
              unsatiable...
       irrevocable...
irreversible...
           -------seventh chances
                pain.
       ------eighth chances
           cries.
    ------ninth chances
        lies.
-------tenth chances
      more 'last' goodbyes.
              et cetera

I can swear it will never happen again,
Although, that is a promise I repeatedly made to myself in the past
And I have found it as empty as the space within my heart,
With not enough “sorry”s to fill the hole,
For darling, it beats, but never for you.

You always have been, always will be, my confidante,
My isle of sanity in the strong tides
Threatening to drown my mind in the sea of blue.
But, the issue at hand is that this feeling is it, and nothing more,
Nothing close to my feelings for another.

Eyes radiating warmth,
Threatening to burn with their fiery gaze -
I have received many a third-degree injury -
For I have done the undoable,
Spoken the unspeakable,
Touched the untouchable.

How could my love extend to another when my duty is to share my heart with only you?
I did share my heart,
and the rest,
with you,
My futile quest for passion as hot as yours.
Alas, that spark could never be alighted,
And it pains me to say that this naïve
Young marriage has been an extended study in unrequited love.

So many years have passed, so many years I have tried, and tried I did.
Not a soul can say I did not try -
By God, if there was an award for trying, this vessel would win first prize -
But I have been anchored down by the weight of your love
Without any of my own to keep me afloat.

Your touch is rough,
And in love it scratches, eroding my skin and revealing an undesirable form.

Hers is soft,
Gently caressing my every nook and cranny,
Taking the bad and making silky-smooth good,
If only for a little while.

Your lips do not fit upon my face.
They are as out of place as a puzzle piece
Chosen with good intentions by a child
But upon examination,
Does not complete the picture,
Being jammed in where it will never belong.

Her kiss locks perfectly upon every piece,
Paralyzing me in a timeless tableau,
Wiping clear, if only for a minute,
How much I abhor every fiber of my sordid being.

For how could I ever be such an abomination in the eyes of our Lord?
To not only be an adulteress, but with her of all people in this immense world?
This is not how I was raised,
This is not how I want anyone to live,
A life as despicable as the worst criminal,
Making me a murderer to my own morals.

The most disgusting part is
How our future children would be reared.
Would I be capable of loving the poor things
Or would my soul reject them such as it has you?
Is there a limit to the hole in my heart?
I am fearful that there is an answer to that,
That I ought to know but have turned a blind eye upon,
Never thinking,
Never thinking.

And that is why I write melancholy papers
With blurry eyes and cheeks as red as the sun that is settling for its nightly rest.
My words spill out, too abrupt for such a note,
But they drop true
Appearing as simple stains I pen them word by cold word.

I should be savouring these final phrases
They will be my last for eternity.
I used to believe we would be together,
Even through the vast expanse of death,
But I will never be allowed through the pearly gates of God's kingdom,
He has long forgotten about me.

For I will not allow to child I carry to enter such a broken world.
You deserve to have a China doll family with a perfectly whole wife,
One that does not have these chips and cracks,
Having to paint a porcelain face on every morning.

I am very sorry for you now,
For this cannot have been an easy read,
Not like your Sunday papers that you voraciously peruse,
Or the novels upon our shelf that you say You will read when you have time -
You never do.

You will have lots of time now,
No longer futilely attempting to please me.
Please, never think you are at fault -
The blame is all mine.

This mess is my tragic legacy that I will not
Allow to be perpetuated.
My final word is this -
Take care,
eat your greens,
Find a woman capable of loving a man as wonderful as you
As she ought to,
My best friend.

Sometimes is easy to guess about others feelings,
But at same point,
It's become undoable'
To know exactly'
What you are feeling!

By: Nida Mahmoed.

So often he attempts
to change words
he has said.
Words that he says later
do not mean
what they convey

There will never be
enough blotters, or erasers
or black markers to cover all
that he would amend
or alter if possible

A secret disclosed
once redacted
becomes evidence
that he desires his words  
to remain unconfirmed

A secret is a secret
only if concealed,
totally hidden
and never unearthed

Redaction is an action
to revoke or nullify
words and actions that
may or may not be undoable

One drink wakes it in me –
the reckless storm that ignites in my belly
and spread to my head,
my chest.

Run.

I issue an evacuation order for myself –
a hurricane of stillness gathers on the horizon,
pack a bag and go.

Leave everything you don’t need behind.

Your job –
you’ve always gotten another.

Your home –
you’ve always gotten another.

Your love –
you know you love another.

Everything is undoable,
transit is safety, movement is comfort
stasis is death.
Plastic bags dragged into your throat.
***** water rising in the basement.

Go.

Before you’re too old,
before the cement dries,
wipe it off.

Two drinks crumble it in me –
the recklessness becomes hopelessness.
I’m so tired.
I am sandbags;
heavy, full, put up to weather the storm.
I couldn’t go if I tried.

Heaped on a beach and the water is rising.

Lets get over the stupid **** about God and the Devil
Satan is the serpent power
originating at the base of the spine, this is primal power corresponding to the id
With out Satan you would be dead
This power regulates primal autonomic excretory and ****** functions, ie. survival and supports the higher activities of the body mind and soul
corresponding to the ego and super ego, your God
The ego is and integrative mechanism that stands between Id and the super ego ie Devil or Id and God or the super ego
The id is the original primal survival mechanism and true will not to be ignored or denied
The light is born of the darkness and is born-less
The darkness is eternal  and the light is everywhere within her

The super ego is discernment ...principal ....reason...ethics and ideation's of mythic heroes , not to be ignored or denied  
In religion  aspects of the higher self are personified as a Christ, Buddha, Krishna etc when God takes human form
and the Devil is personified as Satan, Asuras Beelzebub Demons or various miscreants in human form  

If Christians adhered strictly to total purity they would have to  insist on castrations and analectomies to purge their so called evil elements   and die because surviving with out the lower is undoable
conversely the Satanists would require lobotomies or being guillotined because living without essential principals is indoable 
God and the Devil are not mutually exclusive except when they're  viewed through the maw of religion...God and the Devil are different sides of the very same coin

In the royal yoga of the the east  when the serpent power ascends up the spinal column  the id, ego and super ego are instantaneously integrated and transcended into an all together different order and the fractured nature of self is over come by unity

This unity transcends all myth and concepts of god ie. religion ethics morality
It is a totally transcendent order..
In western terms as a human you stand between the the higher and the lower
Spiritual evolution is not about taking sides its about the integration towards a whole self
You are potentially the magician who mobilizes the lower to serve the higher
This may be an over simplification but
you use your demons to create a base ...they are work slaves to get money so you can go to your temple, your home...the higher self in effect and reflect on the beauty of life

.hellloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo­ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox­oxoxoxo
CAN WE **** NOW :)

Oh wishing well, they say you can give anything
So, I beg of you once again, give me someone to give this diamond ring
Someone to light up my day
Someone who makes me laugh at everything they say

Oh wishing well, this is our third year together, and my prayers remain unanswered
All this time, in serious conversation without banter.
This man is soon to go insane,
For the lack of love is his life's bane

Oh wishing well, your bright waters begin to darken
When we first met, you were so bright I was so certain
That you could help me find "the one"
And yet, after all this time, we have found none

Oh wishing well, your waters are no longer the reflection
Of a boy who hoped of a soon fulfilled need
Now you show me a man consumed by depression
Neck tied to a rope, performing the undoable deed

Childish dreams with skid marks behind them displaying the halt  that almost caused a crash
Lucid beliefs with undoable task
**** that reflection reminding us were growing old
More sticks on the fire to warm a heart that's growing cold
A soul in a body, a body holding a mind
A removal of love, desperately seeking rewind
Displayed as a crime, I shattered the glass
All heroes fall then turn to ash

unboard the windows
there is an expensive moment to come
when you finally figure out
the undoable has been done  

never fleeting, never free  
pay and pay but never repay

hope he was more than your hedberg ******
leading you on to childless and spinster

going going gone
all along you got it so wrong

dystopia ringing your doorbell daily
another package from amazon
****** censorship for all
aren't we all our own black swan

pain is a permanent marker
unremovable like coffee stains on carpet
undoable like stomach knots
unalterable like bad surgery
unwanted tattoos tell the truth

reminder of pain imprints in flesh
indelible ink writing on private parts
ingrained in memory like ***** rings around a tub
surgery scars reveal new skin

entrenched in the brain
pushed to the back of the mind
pain recorded, hidden, collated, undeleted
recycled every 14 days
triggered by foul smell, bad tastes and bitter tea

badly drawn with a pen
pain is a permanent marker
forever and binding

skewered, twisted,
undoable knot
deep in flesh-soil
looking at death
unholy smell
of rot
decomposed juices
a grinning skull
silent scream
all the way to Hell.

You're with her now,
Mocking me and my soul,
Inspiring my heart to grow
Feelings I never had before...

You're with her now,
Laughing at my heart and soul:
The fool I was. You're right...
Inspiring my heart grow
Feelings
Which may count as dangerous.
The fool I was... Thinking....

                   One must do.
But you were undoable.
"Thanks Lord" You give praise.
You, with her, laughing, mocking,
Making my heart rise
Over centuries if pride.
Feelings....
                      With her.