"The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."
~ Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms



"Our lives disconnect and reconnect, we move on, and later we may touch one another, again bounce away. This is the felt shape of a human life, neither simply linear nor wholly disjunctive nor endlessly bifurcating, but rather this bouncey sequence of bumping into's and tumblings apart."
~ Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet



Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Naked


It comes out of nowhere

An ache for epistemological mooring

The loneliness, ennui and isolation

Of the search


Solitary confinement of the soul

A longing for intellectual touch

To know and be known

Mingling minds in conversational intercourse


Ideas bared between sheets of thought

Vulnerable locutions in the night

Poetic memory wrapped in metaphor

Making the story with two endings


Searching the empirical forest of otherness

To encounter more than an abstraction

To touch, taste and feel the ineffable

If only for the briefest of moments



 

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