Transparent
July 10, 2010
I glide transparent
beneath the surface
of the skin
Where even my voice
does not know
it’s own words –
Swimming in the essence
of bluish rivers
bulging, gone mad;
surging away from its
pulsing mother.
Once nourished,
but now
trapped inside walls of
skin and sinew
organs and tissue,
drowning in blood.
Swimming in salt and
Chromosomic particles
That are not really me.
Not me.
Just the parts I
am made of.
Everything
does not always
add up to
the whole.
Photo by Nancy.
And the Other Thing Is... 
I wonder, Brad, if the same is true of life–that the sum of the parts does not make the whole, and it is only when we are far enough away that we can catch a glimpse of that.
I saw you got inspired, so I had to come over and peer at the results.
Inspired. Yes.
I love the way this pushes forward, like the pulsing in the poem. And this, this is my favorite part…
“Swimming in the essence
of bluish rivers
bulging, gone mad”
The camel is smitten.
The camel has allowed his poetic heart
to bulge beneath his skin.
she-it, man, this it good!
May I say how swell this is! You have been hiding words in your hump. Glad you opened it up to the words out.
Stunning words and image…. and you may perfect sense…