20081225

THURS

LEAVE

I hate living more so than I fear dying.

This body is a subterfuge that holds me back.

I pray for health only because I’ve come
with only once Chance.

To find that I cannot make a difference
would kill me.

Listen, I see you in the Soup.
Each breath we take
Each liquid spooned…

I see that the bowl is Finished,
before I had even arrived.

Death is everywhere.
It doesn’t begin on the day I die.
I might not die during the day,
(it might be in the evening).

But I long for Death
because it is more Generous than Life.

Listen, nobody will ever hear what you say.
They are given Ears, but they do not Receive.

They talk with their Ears
and as the words come out:
they make up their own minds about God.

That is why I learned to talk to my Self,
because no one knows these chambers more intimately.

I know exactly what this Life is about.

And I must earn my Wings
in order to Leave.

—
Notes:
Today, my poetry writing will change.
It will be less and less complicated.