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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476989" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Trying To Interpret The Silence Like Glyphs In A Jungle Ruin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Trying to interpret the silence like glyphs in a jungle ruin. <br>Afraid of what they might say if I cut the vines away <br>like a Medusa's head of spinal cords connected to my brain, <br>or this octopus of major blood vessels plugged into my heart. <br>My dna is the long molecule of a Zen cowboy, <br>with the Mongolian genes of a shaman practising <br>hunting magic that ensnares what he loves <br>in the nets of constellations that do no harm <br>to the wavelengths of the prey. You've got <br>to keep on dying every day if you want <br>to be born again in the dream tree of a shaman. <br>This is the way you avoid taking possession of your transcendence.<br>This is the way you break out of a cosmic egg<br>like a dragon without making an aviary of your solitude. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So many voices all at once in my head, <br>trying to say something in the living languages of the dead<br>about annihilation in a time urgent with the mystery of need. <br>When space isn't expanding the potential of its own medium <br>into the available dimensions of a future <br>that's already behind us by the time it gets here <br>like a delinquent s.o.s. from a star we were hoping <br>had got a fix on us like the maidenhead of a lifeboat, <br>it breeds. It proliferates like punctuation. It bonds <br>disparate elements into oxymoronic metaphors <br>that leave you as elated as a vertiginous Sufi at a crossroads<br>knowing that ultimate union doesn't have to be <br>about one or the other of infinite ways to make it through life, <br>you can shine like a star emerging from its own ancestral ashes <br>and take them all at once. Or as Dogen Zenji <br>said to himself one night when the moon was clear: <br>The place is here. The path leads everywhere. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I emerge from my own flame like a genie of fire<br>without smoke, and burn invisibly in my own art <br>like a crucible of the heart. Hermes Trismegistus, <br>the Thrice-Blessed, in a biochemical retort <br>bubbling over like the multiverse getting out of the bathtub <br>without leaving a ring around the womb of hyperspace. <br>I've washed so many lives off like the moon <br>it's a wonder I'm not a virgin again, but the return journey<br>of the second innocence is better than the first <br>because it's been sweetly seasoned by a universe <br>looping in reverse through all the stations<br>and excruciating transformations of my life <br>that don't have the same sting in their glands <br>when they first struck out at me like mystic acetylene <br>and scaled flashes of insight into the psyche of lightning. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm a big boy. The acquiescent khan of millions, <br>the Golden Horde who would rather make love than war any day <br>of the Great Tectonic Year, trying to read the fault-lines <br>in my own skull, volcanic fissures between continental plates<br>and the surrealistic empires crowding my stargates.<br>I can take the pain. I was born for it. Raised in it. <br>Even if I'm deciphering my own gravestone, <br>brushing away the stardust like a patina of mirages<br>with my eyelashes for a broom, my tongue for a dustpan, <br>ripping away the roots like the nervous systems <br>of the things that cling to it like the cornerstone of a ghost.<br>Been alone so long in the company of stars, <br>raising this hourglass of time to the beauty of their eyes, <br>even quicksand can look like the oasis of a distant galaxy to me.<br>And this skull of a headstone, crumbling like bread for the birds, <br>not a ruin, but just another phase of the moon I'm living through.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476989" data-title="Trying To Interpret The Silence Like Glyphs In A Jungle Ruin de Patrick White" data-description="Trying to interpret the silence like glyphs in a jungle ruin. 
Afraid of what they might say if I cut the vines away 
like a Medusa's head of spinal cords connected to my brain, 
or this octopus of major blood vessels plugged into my heart. 
My dn..."></div>
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