PROSE POETRY | SELF-LOVE | ULTIMATE SELF
Ode to all the Selves that Bring Us Closer to the Ultimate Self

[ I ]
A self made with all the lightness of a dawn suspended in the skies.
A self of barbarous poise.
All opportunity and peril that helps deepen life. A self to share through the lost art of mental exploration.
The balance between a mad man and a philosopher.

[ II ]
A panoramic view of miles of life: forwards and backwards. A self of resignation, surrender and spirituality.
Unguessed by the queerest of intellects; held like warped time and space quantum in prayer between quivering hands.
A self fearful of running into Him through catastrophe. Seeking Him halfheartedly wondering if He is seeking me.
As adults, we perpetually run in circles; chasing ghosts of things we lost as children. Even, if we can no longer remember what they once looked like.
An underlying theme for all other selves: the seed and the fruits that grow on the foliage of our conscience and subconscious mind.

[ III ]
A self that invests heavily.
The core-drive self in need of a start-up repair running on safe mode since 2010. Number-crunching, calculating, contingency reimbursement lawyer for the smallest of gambles in life.
The restricted area 51 of all selves. The joker. exhausted, indecipherable, only “kind-of-illegal”, intimidating, intentionally colloquial.

[ IV ]
A self made of borrowed light. Of perpetually orbiting distant moons emitting some kind of light into your life.
A whole celestial body to call by the name of someone you owe a lifetime more of togetherness.
A self you recognize through other eyes appreciative of what you once appreciated in someone else.

[ V ]
A self made of only song. Of strange and quickening desire that speaks only in dreams. Impassioned imprisoned desirous delirium.
The only self so free it beckons all your senses to the aerobics it can perform. A self that exists in bottomless falls and that disappears an inch off the ground. A self that doesn’t recognize impact.
A self that is bound for life to whoever can summon it at will and doesn’t scare easily. A self of dulcet ideology only heard in foreign lands or by fleeting lovers.
Never else spoken into being out of fear of abandonment or worse, attempts of tyrannical possession.

[ VI ]
A self grounded in home and hearth and absurd bursts of happiness.
Sacrificial. Predictable. Probably etched into the fiber of our being. Inevitable.
Irrelevant but vivid as a memory of a warm picture from a children’s storybook you once read on a cold rainy day.
A french nursery rhyme. A paradoxical self: oblivious of debt taken from life to create life.
A clotting of sounds, eyes the color of warm oatmeal and a crochet pattern on polished glass. A promise of more: running into qualities to form the heart of your children from.
What is vested like indestructible faith in four chambered muscle but broken just as easily?
A mirage to approach stealthily.






