Saturday, July 22, 2006
The Anatomy of Bliss
Note: My computer has been down for several days, and hence I have not been able to post. (Oddly, my computer failed, my watch stopped, and my tape player lost its sound all within 24 hours. My watch has now restarted, and my computer is working again--all very mysterious.)
The Anatomy of Bliss
No one knows why.
It could be anything,
a sudden shift in the atmosphere,
a rush of hormones,
the cells sparking off
one another’s memories,
sharing secrets from
their own private past,
underground network of nerves.
I can’t unravel
this speech,
translate its phonemes
into anything meaningful,
recognizable, clear.
This is why I have abandoned
spokenness,
foresworn the hidden syllables
of desire.
I just let this whatever it is
play over me,
lead me to recognition
like a primal self
moving into dream state,
like a wanton child
toying with its
mother’s breast.
Dorothy Walters
July 20, 2006
The Anatomy of Bliss
No one knows why.
It could be anything,
a sudden shift in the atmosphere,
a rush of hormones,
the cells sparking off
one another’s memories,
sharing secrets from
their own private past,
underground network of nerves.
I can’t unravel
this speech,
translate its phonemes
into anything meaningful,
recognizable, clear.
This is why I have abandoned
spokenness,
foresworn the hidden syllables
of desire.
I just let this whatever it is
play over me,
lead me to recognition
like a primal self
moving into dream state,
like a wanton child
toying with its
mother’s breast.
Dorothy Walters
July 20, 2006
