My sweet Mom, sure didn't create my thinker.
I came as ME, skin white but more pinker.
What pool did I come from? full of thinking
butt happy to twittle thumbs
Something called me forth and put me here.
I go away, I'll disappear into the stillness, sedation-day 7
Then again a calling comes and rises me into
duality, a body! experience, action, creation!
and then the pain and good, pain and great, pain-hate
the lights flashing in this dualistic dance
of gods expressing playing out fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem