"The Die" by: Dmitri Malcolm and Dapo Abioye
The dichotomy of death
The roll of the Die
The mapping of life
The morbid song
My reverse birth
My faceless being
My unbeaten heart
My soul an illusion
My mind a prison
All and nothing
My surface unsurfaced
The earthlessness of spirit
The beauty of dust
My disdain for love
The life of death
My faceless bring
Being faceless my meaning
Of texture of death
Lucidity of breath
Infinite girth
The limits are limitless
I start where I begin
I begin where I end
Oh shell of mankind
You contain me so well
Prison of my surface
The limit of a person.
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1 comment:
And what a prison it is
--for there seems to be forms of impossibility within apparent limits; there may be realms, universes, areas presently inaccessible, no present means of perceiving them outside imagination
which would tend to perceive the realm, universes, areas imagination constructs rather than those realms, universes, areas that are, as yet inaccessible.
I am particularly intrigued by My surface unsurfaced and am eager to hear more of what unfolds if this surface (os this unsurfacing) is pursued more.
I am also interested in what emerges when this ida is applied to specific content in my posts --don't keep me waiting to much longer --again; I am very intrigued with what is framed/reframed in this notion.
Also, FYI, I tended to read prison as prism (has to do with certain active parameters of my perceptual framing), and I found the prism of surface brimming with implication as a form of prison of "my surface."
Kaleidoscopic symmetry and its implications are a large concern in Tokyo Butter, though I hardly exhausted the surfaces of these implications, and your text poam reminds/inspires/insists that I investigate more of those surfaces.
Thanks.
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