the great eternal void (a spiritual journey to nothing and nowhere, in six parts)
ifrench poets, german philosophers
and american pig farmers!
bloody red neck hands
working in a tobacco field
and cheap immigrant labour
in the deep south
i am a pig, pink flesh
in clear water
joy at life
(i want to feast on a garden of onions)
ii
socialistic democracy!
fermented blood!
america, do you know
where your whiskey and cigarettes
come from?
i want to write something new
but all of the bullshit is already
just a bunch of rehashed classics,
there are no new classics
iii
i saw a naked child
sprout wings and fly
into the sun
(much in the greek style)
got a caffeine high,
no sleep -
chanting namo tassa all day
while getting lost
in mystical music
(lyrics that fuck the mind)
acidic coffee
gnaws the stomach
with limp gums
iv
today, it was so hot
that i spilled sweat
in my right eye
(can't see where i'm going now)
where are you going now?
to your catholic church
or your buddhist temple?
i am left in the midst
of the great sun god,
i am absorbed into the psychology
of the moon
i am i am, and
i am mine
who's are you?
(i think you belong
to some foreign god)
v
culturally accustomed,
shock of the shattered mirror
open mic poetry reading
the kid spoke of death and experience.
i want to shock you into existence!
you're not alive, not really
you're just going through the motions
i'm going to play your emotions,
show you what life is all about
look where you are,
observe your surroundings
and breathe -
you're not dead
yet
culturally accustomed to the dull,
to the lifeless life
the artists and poets arrive,
bringing true life with them
vi
there's a health nut
running around the super market
with a bottle of pure extra virgin olive oil
searching for instant pan cakes,
there's a topless woman
on a corner street
chanting for equal rights
and there is a flea
in an old man's beard
that can see past all the perplexities
(vexations of human life)
[that which is non-essential to life,
false understanding of life,
what to reach out to,
to do, to believe,
to be]
what have we done
to our own mind
and where are the answers?
where is the culture-less culture?
i am on a journey to nowhere,
absence of thought and opinion,
mind journey - journey to nothing
and nowhere
and will you come with me?
will i see you
in the great eternal void?
Poetry by Thomas Perdue
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Written on 2012-10-24 at 04:30
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