Dissolution Ritual

February 27, 2013

You never realise what you are until

you are stuck and left waiting

with contemplation and time

infiltrating your mind like milk to stale bread.

You mull on these and they fill you,

weigh you down soaked and soggy

spreading you into a mushy mass

you barely remember your original thoughts

or even the form

that you once believed yourself to be.

Consciousness is yet unknown

unclassifiable or explainable by

science or poetry

but still we try.

Attempting to lock in what and who we are

so that we can start on something;

create something;

make something of ourselves.

Construct the delusion of solid ground

to plant our feet.

The world is a torrent of the new

and the newly destroyed.

Standing before this we are tormented

by the blustering inconsistencies of change.

We need a dissolution ritual;

some concrete steps to undo ourselves

and build the person that we wish to be.

To detach ourselves from our complexes,

fantasies, abstractions, and compulsions.

A tonic to wake from this, our shared dream.

We think therefore we are,

but we are not what we or others think.

We write our thoughts, share them,

print them in the papers,

kill and die for misspelt words

or misheard phrases.

We perish and are reborn everyday.

Every moment we are something new,

undefined and undefinable.

We try to recall the past and hold it

as the future stretches us forward.

Our middles stretch and we are nearly torn.

Frantically we look for the words

of our new dissolution ritual

to let our breaking come as easy

as is does for change to break.




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