memory gospel

Poetry & Prose May 22, 2019

1

₁ I can’t begin to explain the first story that brought me here, into the middle of the desert, looking at stars.
₂ I can’t speak as clearly anymore, there’s something holding my tongue and I feel like it’s taken control ever since.
₃ I speak in dissuasions as a permanent advocate to the devil.
₄ I’m untrusting and slowly numbing against the heat of the sun I’m stuck under.
₅ Who built this desert anyway?
₆ The sun is my least favorite star in that manner.
₇ The closest star to me but somehow the least recognizable.
₈ Unlike the distant stars, its heat is a feeling. And the feeling is failing.
₉ To me it feels like the nagging red blink of a smoke detector.









































































I’m told the sun makes all things beautiful.






























.



.
.












₁₀ There’s a certain hour of each day where you can just, and only just, look at it.
₁₁ So I tried.
₁₂ I looked right at the sun, right at it, right when its shine was its least intense.


₁₃ I didn’t see anything but I lost everything.
₁₄ I lost my memory, I lost my sight, I lost hold of reason. I felt everything slip out of my hands and into place. From that moment all I could do was feel.
₁₅ What they don’t tell you about coming to your senses is that you lose grip of reason.
The imprint on my eyelids was enough to deduce what had happened.
₁₆ I didn’t dare think.
₁₇ When you look at the sun for clarity you get what you came for.
A black dot blur eclipsing the world.
Forever.


2

₁ Now here is my nagging thought.
₂ You can forget your memories. Actively. But you can’t erase the history that created them. ₃ History is kept alive and forgotten collectively. ₄ That’s not to say that all is written in stone. In my opinion that adage is nearsighted. History repeats itself is a better adage. ₅ As opposed to history, memory is selective. Because of this we can all collectively forget and with a little time added we can erase history’s conscious existence.
₆ I think that by existing you become apart of a contract that dictates the course of history as an observer and a bearer. I need to think, and sometimes escape the collective, to keep history alive.

₇ To get rid of the weight of this contract I go out into the desert to look at the stars.

PRINT BY AKARI HELICOPTER

Comments 2

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.