Monday, May 09, 2011

the holy




on a Monday,
I try to remember,
to forget everything,
to accept here and now,
that the breath is the anchor,

to know,

the self beyond the body,
before the heart is clothed,
before I hide my soul,
that there's no inner,
that there's no outer,
to move beyond the darkness,
to stop having this violence,
this tossing and turning,
this fretting and fighting,

this static coming through...
this hectic static coming through...
this panic coming through...

to understand,

that what is concealed,

is truly naked,

that what is meaningless,

is truly sacred.




































4 comments:

Juice Box said...

Hard, raw and real. I really like this one: one of my favorites from you.

Old Ollie said...

This is really excellent - we all fight this fight. The paradoxical wrestling match of body vs soul.

Fisheye Lens said...

HP -- Wow. This is a remarkably well crafted and written piece. The best kind of verse -- an artfully athletic prosody centred by a meaningful core of genuine epistemological force.

all ways 11 o'clock said...

this is a hard hard beautiful piece h.p.
it strips us naked
turns us out
makes us strong
and vulnerable at the same time.
i will go back here to this one again and...

~robert