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I Stay, I Go


12th July 2002

9:52am: So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,
Believe in the Great Sound...


I love the image of plunging into the truth. I wish there were a calm blue pool somewhere containing truth and all of the humble could plunge right in.

I guess that would exclude me though, heh. I can become downright indignant and arrogant in the presence of the right ego. I've read so many times that anger is really a secondary emotion derived from sadness, hurt feelings, yearning...I really think it is so. It's painful when someone comes along toting The Truth. So utterly convinced that no other words can rest there, no other ideas can tumble through examined, just steel doors and heavy bolts and never ever learning anything new when you're already so full with all the answers.

Hmmm. I started out thinking of someone else who irks me and ended up describing myself.

Guess I got to plunge in after all...
10:25am: Eating Poetry

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
she screams.

I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.

~Mark Strand.
11:20am: I feel so sad and guilty when I have to drop someone from my friend's list. I started my journal with the idea that I'd only add writers who were poetic, introspective, funny, creative, intelligent and/or wise.

Zat enough pressure for ya??

Who do you suggest I take a look at?

Whose words make you melt or ponder or dream or chuckle...?
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