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the psychoanalysis of myself, a spider and an invisible stranger

Posted by SpiritWriter , 06 September 2012 · 764 views

The Psychoanalysis of Myself, a Spider and an Invisible Stranger

In an attempt to get to know myself
I drew a box and within it
listed all my thoughts and emotions

but that didn't work.

I seemed to be endless and uncontainable.
I found that I was as deep as I was long
and as forward as I was backward.
I was better off sipping soup
and admiring the back of my hand
than thinking I could totally understand myself.

So now, as I try to presume the reasons you do not love me,
I sit here listening to myself, having not a clue,

Except that, you are also one like me,
an invisible yet eternal well,
you are a body,
blocked by my body,

and that is just as well.

Something that apparently would go so well
(sorry for all the wells)
is blocked by the flesh,
which is the face,
which is the appearance of what is real,

for all we search for is the beauty.

Look to where it is mysterious
and then you will see my ugly.
Look into where you get lost,
in the large and the soft swells and inwardly
to the red meat that is turning green.
Pretend you are asleep
if you have to.

This was his reply:

It is not the dirt and the meat that meet.
There is something more
than being under the skin
that leads to pure connection.

Whoever said we must reveal all
is lost in the past.

I do see your beauty
but you continue to bury it
into the ground.
You ask me to dig it up again.
Now I am confused
because at once it was abounding.

You say you cannot put a finger on a thing.
I tell you I'm not thinking.


When we were alone in the blood knot
and in the crack between two stones
we were snug together.

We sang and I drew in a tight breath.
I constricted your veins
in congeals of panic.

I am the spider hair,
spinning the million mile line
over the skin
of all your organs.

I am not far gone.
Overhead I am softly birthing in the rafters.
I catch you sometimes,
mostly in the sparkles of September.


Natural wonders
will come to your mind
because you are a part of nature.

What was done in the past
does not get buried without resurrection.

Remember all of your trash.

This moment is not the end of time
and life
though you may die
will continue growing.


Who has written history?
Who are those that stay in the past?
Who are the non-existent?

Listen to the time we told you differently,
the time that only you and I can understand.

"remember all your trash"


loved it :tu:
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Sep 07 2012 06:52 AM
Thanks, I really thought I saved this as a draft...
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