Sunday, December 25, 2011

From a dream

 From a dream
woke up from a dream
in which i am asked to create
a new genre in fiction writing
and to push this movement to its final conclusion ...
i have written in my sleep ...
countless times ...
the hands writes and writes ...
only the quill and the parchment i could see ...
words and words become dissertations
and exhausted i stopped at times and wakes up
to see a world of illusion ...
and continue the thoughts i left off in my dreams
and into the cybernetic world i transpose
the ideas in the parchment
into the pastures of digital spirituality
i have become
merely words
my entire beingness has become the will
of the Author of Things
to write anything
even if i tremble at what i have written
for they come from my dreams
they become flesh
becomes thoughts
becomes ideas
break walls
storm bastilles
like shiva vishnu brahma
like the sword with those two verses
of a rubaiyat of the self
so powerful
that cuts across the seven heavens
as they collapses in the seven hells
i write and write
until night comes
another dream another revelation
illusion of whirling and whirling like a derwish
of the dance of shiva
another new thought
for a new genre
i have become
the quill and the parchment

in one
only that
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