Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


do not attempt to understand me


do not attempt to understand me
and tell me that this is this and this is what i have to do

for i do not need a shrink or another philosopher
they are all there inside the cabinet, locked and who knows

dying, but i am not that so cruel, for i still let them live
inside this void, and they still have the voices

though faint and well, i say, they have their own time,
but for the time being, i ask, that they must not attempt

to unlock me like i am a door with switches, a wall with bolts,
misplaced modifiers, incomplete clauses,

do they know that when they attempt to understand me
i die, like a meaning?

do they know that when the time comes for the riddle to be answered
and correctly at that,

i shall crumple like a paper sphinx?
there are those which are better be just themselves
undissipated, disassemble,

unconnected, dislodged, excreted,
for in truth, i prefer this self to just be...

unfolded, unfolding, it is more beautiful when
not understood, its mystery so beautiful, like

when you begin to explain a sunset
when you put in the square of your hands the sunrise

or the moon, that you contain
inside the iris of your eye.

Submitted: Sunday, August 02, 2009

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