THE BLUE OF THE FLAME
“There is not a law under which any part of this universe is governed which does not come into
play and is touched upon in these phenomena. There is no better, there is no more open door
by which you can enter into the study of natural philosophy than by considering the physical
phenomena of a candle.” – Michael Faraday
1.
I’ve been staring at this candle
watching the years go by—
Buddha said enlightenment is
like blowing out the flame. Though
I haven’t heard what he said about
darkness. Maybe that it is empty &
impermanent. I’ll check BrainyQuote.com
to be sure. It would be nice to
be enlightened. Maybe this avocado
would taste different. Or I would
do the dishes without yesterday
ringing in my ear. Perhaps I’ll watch
this candle all night in the tombs
of stillness of space between thoughts.
2.
I’ve been staring at this candle
watching the years go by—
memory’s faded recompense.
Marigold scented flashbacks hover
above the space where the smoke
disappears. I see the face of
a three-eyed owl flickering in
the flame. The voice is a bridge
whose silhouette looms alive on
these stucco walls. I cross it
when silences pull an invisible
string tied to my navel. From
the other side. Walking. With sunspots
and serpents anchoring the air.
CONFISCATION
after André Breton
A voice
within the voice
contours fortunes
hidden from the senses.
In the wind or without.
An amalgamation of joys
catalyzes seeking & from
distance planes secrets
survived by the dead
before me—breathing through
a memory or unrecognized
within the mask of time
between us.
Waning formulae
& theory, relics of
the past exit with the
same voice every day.
Matriculated into
dimensionless rhythms.
Vaulted from Aquarian
rain. Camouflaged
through Piscean ages
in splintered diagnoses.
The last frontier of the senses.
The ascension of spirit
through corridors of memory,
loss and regeneration.
Listen, it is faint.
Look, it is distant.
I feel the last breath of dying stars
as a needle thread through the stomach…
This is how I am no longer fed on absence.
This is how the light gets in.
This is the sad road that leads to everything.
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