2020-04-24 08:05:08 +00:00
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<title>Zk | Numeno</title>
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<main>
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<header>
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<h1>Zk | Numeno</h1>
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</header>
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<article class="content">
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2020-04-24 08:30:08 +00:00
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<p><span class="tag">writing</span> <span class="tag">poetry</span> <span class="tag">spirituality</span></p>
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<h2 id="numeno">Numeno</h2>
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2020-04-24 08:05:08 +00:00
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<p><q class="comment">In <em>Eigengrau</em></q></p>
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<div class="verse">Inter ĝuo kaj timo
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Estas loko de tro da signifo.
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Apud kompreno, ekster saĝo,
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Tamen ĝi tutampleksas.
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Mi kompareble malgrandas
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Kaj ĝi tro granda estas.
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Nekomprenebla
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Nekontestebla,
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Senmova kaj ĉiam ŝanĝiĝema.
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-----
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Between joy and fear
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Is a place of too much meaning.
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Next to understanding, outside wisdom,
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It nonetheless expands.
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I’m so small beside it
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and it is too big.
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Incomprehensible,
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Incontestible,
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Unmoving and always changing.</div>
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<hr />
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2020-04-24 08:10:06 +00:00
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<h2 id="overflowing-with-words">Overflowing with words</h2>
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<p><q class="comment">In <em>ally</em></q></p>
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2020-04-24 08:05:08 +00:00
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<style>
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.speak {
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line-height: 0.3;
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}
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</style>
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<div class="verse speak">
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speak to me
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speak to me
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speak to me
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speak to me
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speak to me
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speak to me
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speak to me
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that i may see
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that i may see
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that i may see
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that i may see
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that i may see
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the face of god
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the face of god
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the face of god
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2020-04-24 08:10:06 +00:00
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2020-04-24 08:05:08 +00:00
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</div>
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2020-04-24 08:10:06 +00:00
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<div class="verse">I was born at the edge of the numinous.
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That is why I can tread along the border.
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2020-06-07 06:25:07 +00:00
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That is why I’m able to whisper the name of God.
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That is why I’m allowed to know the number and how to factor it.
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2020-04-24 08:10:06 +00:00
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That is why I have seven fingers spread wide and three curled toward my heart.
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That is why my limbs trace the curves and lines of power when I dance.
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That is why I sit with my back to the sun in summer.
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That is why my body is a canvas.
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You were born in sunlight.
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Speak secrets into my hair.
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Take my words from me.
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Spend the intercalary days telling me lies.
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Break my dystonia with a breath.
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Wash my face with salt water.
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Tell me the name you call yourself.
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Close my eyes.
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We will sleep in the shade.
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Let me bless you with smoke.
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Let me bathe your feet.
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Let me light the candles.
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Let me place a stone beneath my tongue.
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Let me taste copper.
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Let me draw in ash.
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Let me rise up until my head is in the branches and my hair becomes the leaves.
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-----
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At the beginning of time,
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when chaos birthed to order and disorder,
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we were blessed with two souls.
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One has seven eyes and can see all of the monsters in the dark,
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but is blinded by the sun.
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The other has no eyes,
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but can feel no pain.
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When order and disorder were close as children,
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our souls experienced the world hand in hand,
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but as they drifted apart and began to fight,
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some of us left one of our souls behind,
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and that is why we search.
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-----
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Babel was a collaborative effort.
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Once,
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we all spoke the same language,
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but on seeing god grow increasingly anxious with the rate of our progress,
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we agreed to let our tongues be confused,
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so that he could take things at a more comfortable pace,
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and we could be assured he would not understand us unless we prayed in silence,
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for only then do we speak the language of angels.
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-----
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I went for a walk and was driven by impulse to collect five sticks.
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They had to be as straight as possible.
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They had to be balanced as close to the middle as possible.
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They had to be the same length without me breaking them.
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They had to have been from different trees.
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They had to have fallen more than a year prior.
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When I got home, I lay them in a row, asked my question, and, one by one, broke them in half.
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-----
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When I speak, the words drip from my tongue as ink,
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and form writing on the ground,
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and I leave a trail behind me,
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and the ink stains your feet,
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and when you walk, words and phrases and sentences are pressed into the soil,
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and the ink breathes life into the plants,
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and even the grass will flower,
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and the bees will flourish,
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and they will both sting you and provide you with sweet honey.
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The ink stains my chin and my clothes.
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Sometimes, I speak into my hands and stain my cheeks as well.
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I speak against my fingers and press them into my flesh until I am covered in rosettes.
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I stretch my hands to the sky and marvel at how black they are.
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And as with the grass, where the ink stains, growth quickens, and I am covered in soft fur.
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I fall to all fours and hunt amid the rocks and the buildings, between cars and along trails.
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And when I am full, I curl up to sleep, and awake human once again.
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My skin is clean and my mind is clear,
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and I cannot speak.
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-----
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The only time I know my true name is when I pray.
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The only time I pray is at the utmost need.
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To pray is to ask yourself what you dare not ask god.
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To answer your own question, you must step outside yourself.
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To step outside yourself, you must forget your true name.
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The only time I know my true name is when I pray.</div>
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2020-04-24 08:25:07 +00:00
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<hr />
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2020-06-07 06:25:07 +00:00
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<div class="verse">Seven slow hours pass.
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Five doors open in my heart.
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Three versions of me step forth.
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Two quick breaths.
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One unending death.</div>
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<hr />
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<div class="verse">Anchor me now to reality.
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Pin me to perception
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or perception to me.
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Loose me amid fractal walls.
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Let successive numbers claim me
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or me claim them.</div>
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<hr />
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2020-04-24 08:05:08 +00:00
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</article>
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<footer>
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2020-06-07 06:25:07 +00:00
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<p>Page generated on 2020-06-06</p>
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2020-04-24 08:05:08 +00:00
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</footer>
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</main>
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