Floodgates
by quin Thursday, Sep 16 2010, 10:20am
international / prose/poetry / literature

a mysterious hand
opens floodgates
when least expected;
at the most inopportune times
the entire content of consciousness
is released,
a burden
far too large
for a puny mind
to bear.

i am drowning
in my own emotions
and experiences
whoever heard of such a thing?

twenty year memories dancing with
this afternoon's experiences,
not yet filed or savoured --
life’s most exquisite and horrid moments
in one gigantic mass!

everything has a strange new
quality, tone,
to re-experience, re-live,
a haphazard arrangement
yet somehow a discernible
ordered chaos.

a lone swimmer against
a giant whirlpool,
about to disappear
into another dimension --
where perhaps
this monumental load
becomes a trifling,
a fleeting whimsy.

we are all
the sum of our experience
uncensored passions/emotions,
pleasures and pains;
fuck!
it’s 2:39am
and i’m going down
for the count (again).

there is no existence
without consciousness,
a difficult statement to counter
the ruin of sophists
and a fool’s delight.

it's 3:31am,
a poem completed,
a lifebuoy,
a raft in a limitless,
variegated sea.