What Is Happening To You Now

maybe about a poem

Light from this page; the bleached wood

Reflects; the cornea bends the wisdom, the

Iris breathes each syllable and the retina sees

All. Each phrase runs down the optic nerve

Like a scalded cat in a greased alley. Each

Phrase nests in the most subversive cell

Of all; a banged-up neuronal room, closed

Locked and strange. What you started to

Read a few seconds ago has fallen apart

And then been joined again. Lights over

The horizon, a reaching out, a healing. 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, i think maybe about a poem and the experience reading it...how it enlightens us but maybe also confuses us...we breathe it in like the air, and then it affects us, hits a nerve, makes us that scalded cat in the greased alley...and yet after we close the theme up inside ourselves, we exhale...there is a jumble of syllables which separate, then come back together...and for whatever reason, after reading and savoring what we read...there is a healing.

nicely done, my friend.

[emmajoy]

' Each ~ Phrase nests in the most subversive cell ~ Of all; a banged-up neuronal room, closed ~ Locked and strange.. '

Such an inspired, instructive, literally eye-opening chain of vision, a flickering near instant process of seeing, collating and, finding More than was before; each movement doing its wondrous task. And, by the finish of that minute event, there will have or should have been, both discovery and analysis before said lines become their natural fall. 'A reaching out, a healing..' indeed. Perhaps?

[Leslie Philibert]

Hallo Emma, thanks for the review, and best wishes.

[Mark]

Very nice metaphor. I like the idea that communication is dissembled then reassembled. Nicely done.

[Leslie Philibert]

Hallo Mark, thanks for the review, and best wishes.