Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

in every serious human idea 
 presented to the world as an engagement with it
 there is an unavoidable lacking in meaning
 which becomes left behind in the womb
        like a stillborn freak of words 
 sticking in the mire of that amorphous sludge 
         of unutterable intuitions and emotions,
         the uniqueness of personality,
         from which it originates.

             ponder this: 

 yes, in every serious human idea 
 presented to the world as an engagement with it
    something dire is lost, 
         even has to become lost: 

 drag out - isolate - the flash of genius from the complex electricity of personality;
  define it with language; compromise as to make it as commonly understandable as possible, 
  and it too shall die; 
  every idea that is born out of the genuinety of individuality, 
             having been ouroborically fostered, nurtured by it, 
     but has shifted into depending essentially on the mechanisms of the outside
     and its automation with the social machinery of communication
     as a measure of involuntary and instinctual endurance in order to thrive in continuity,
             shall wither with the systems of socialization on whose waves it floats, 
             for they can not be of eternal substance; they too 
             are aghast by the wraith of ominous impermanence 
             haunting and spooking like acoustic feedback all around, 
             bouncing, looping 
             in the rehearsal room of eschatorchestra, the final and ultimate end, 
             with which the idea in itself has become inseparable.

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