The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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Putting the revel in revelation

I have my best revelations whilst spinning. Then I stop spinning, and write this poem. All you get is the poem, not the revelation. That's gone; leaving only a trace in my memories.

I have my greatest revelations while I'm spinning. Rote a son bout it. Wan hea it? Hea it go.

When I'm dizzy; spinning in infinity

all the world is open to me

—earth and air and sky and sea—

and the deepest inner mystery

I'm afraid to stop, lest it flee

I'm afraid to start and of what I'll see

How it will tenderly render me undersea

As I float detachedly

distantly immersed in me

I decompress spiritually

Nitrogen thoughts bubble and erupt in my veins

As long as I stay spinning
    I will never ever ever remain the same

    If I forsake the self, can I still keep my name?

This is my flying_blind icon.

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