Reality Is A Staircase Going Neither Up

My Body, Plowed By Your Body, Will Turn Into A Field Where One Is Sown And A Hundred Reaped.

It May Seem Paradoxical To Say That We Have Been Expelled From The Present, But It Is A Feeling We Have All Had At Some Moment. Some Of Us Experienced It First As A Condemnation, Later Transformed Into Consciousness And Action. The Search For The Present Is Neither The Pursuit Of An Earthly Paradise Nor That Of A Timeless Eternity: It Is The Search For A Real Reality.

The Woman Who Died Night After Night And Her Dying Was A Long Goodbye, A Train That Never Left.

To Read A Poem Is To Hear It With Our Eyes; To Hear It Is To See It With Our Ears.

Watching I Watch Myself, What I See Is My Creation As Though Entering Through My Eyes Perception Is Conception Into An Eye More Crystal Clear Water Of Thoughts, What I Watch Watches Me, I Am The Creation Of What I See