Thursday, June 25, 2015


My reflexes are conditioned
To see the truth beneath
Though what i see on the surface
Seems , true enough ,too.
Choosing between poles of being
That inhere in me
Means eschewing choice to embrace
The messiness of self contradiction
Images don't lie
But spawn self projections which
Emanate from, ricochet and dissipate
Into the antechamber of collective memory.
Things happen, coherencies disintegrate
Trajectories halt, resume, suspend, anchor
While the ceaseless alterations of the self
Whirl and tintinnabulate irrepressibly.
Seeing what i need to see
Won't reveal the reality
But reality, ipso facto ,may be
What may be meant to be unseen

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