Guest guest Posted November 2, 2004 Report Share Posted November 2, 2004 The Self It is small and no more visible than a cricket in August. It likes to dress up, to masquerade, as all dwarfs do. It lodges between granite blocks, between serviceable truths. It even fits under a bandage, under adhesive. Neither customs officers nor their beautifull dogs will find it. Between hymns, between alliances, it hides itself. It camps in the Rocky Mountains of the skull. An eternel refugee. It is I and I, with the fearful hope that I have found at last a friend, am it. But the self is so lonely, so distrustful, it does not accept anyone, even me. It clings to historical events not less tightly than water to a glass. I could fill a Neolithic jar. It is insatiable, it wants to flow in aqueducts, it thirsts for newer and newer vessels. It wants to taste space without walls, diffuse itself, diffuse itself. Then it fades away like desire, and in the silence of an August night you hear only crickets patiently conversing with the stars. -- Adam Zagajewski Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted November 2, 2004 Report Share Posted November 2, 2004 Nisargadatta , " kipalmazy " <kipalmazy> wrote: > > The Self > > > It is small and no more visible than a cricket > in August. It likes to dress up, to masquerade, > as all dwarfs do. It lodges between > granite blocks, between serviceable > truths. It even fits under > a bandage, under adhesive. Neither customs officers > nor their beautifull dogs will find it. Between > hymns, between alliances, it hides itself. > It camps in the Rocky Mountains of the skull. > An eternel refugee. It is I and I, > with the fearful hope that I have found at last > a friend, am it. But the self > is so lonely, so distrustful, it does not > accept anyone, even me. > It clings to historical events > not less tightly than water to a glass. > I could fill a Neolithic jar. > It is insatiable, it wants to flow > in aqueducts, it thirsts for newer and newer vessels. > It wants to taste space without walls, > diffuse itself, diffuse itself. Then it fades away > like desire, and in the silence of an August > night you hear only crickets patiently > conversing with the stars. > > > -- Adam Zagajewski e. HA HA Jewski, you're good! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted November 2, 2004 Report Share Posted November 2, 2004 Nisargadatta , " Eric Paroissien " <ericparoissien@g...> wrote: > > Nisargadatta , " kipalmazy " <kipalmazy> > wrote: > > > > The Self > > > > > > It is small and no more visible than a cricket > > in August. It likes to dress up, to masquerade, > > as all dwarfs do. It lodges between > > granite blocks, between serviceable > > truths. It even fits under > > a bandage, under adhesive. Neither customs officers > > nor their beautifull dogs will find it. Between > > hymns, between alliances, it hides itself. > > It camps in the Rocky Mountains of the skull. > > An eternel refugee. It is I and I, > > with the fearful hope that I have found at last > > a friend, am it. But the self > > is so lonely, so distrustful, it does not > > accept anyone, even me. > > It clings to historical events > > not less tightly than water to a glass. > > I could fill a Neolithic jar. > > It is insatiable, it wants to flow > > in aqueducts, it thirsts for newer and newer vessels. > > It wants to taste space without walls, > > diffuse itself, diffuse itself. Then it fades away > > like desire, and in the silence of an August > > night you hear only crickets patiently > > conversing with the stars. > > > > > > -- Adam Zagajewski > > e. HA HA Jewski, you're good! e. now wait a minute, i just googled him, this Zagajewski is a real poet, i thought you made it up Kip, nice poem. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted November 2, 2004 Report Share Posted November 2, 2004 Nisargadatta , " kipalmazy " <kipalmazy> wrote: > > The Self > > > It is small and no more visible than a cricket > in August. It likes to dress up, to masquerade, > as all dwarfs do. It lodges between > granite blocks, between serviceable > truths. It even fits under > a bandage, under adhesive. Neither customs officers > nor their beautifull dogs will find it. Between > hymns, between alliances, it hides itself. > It camps in the Rocky Mountains of the skull. > An eternel refugee. It is I and I, > with the fearful hope that I have found at last > a friend, am it. But the self > is so lonely, so distrustful, it does not > accept anyone, even me. > It clings to historical events > not less tightly than water to a glass. > I could fill a Neolithic jar. > It is insatiable, it wants to flow > in aqueducts, it thirsts for newer and newer vessels. > It wants to taste space without walls, > diffuse itself, diffuse itself. Then it fades away > like desire, and in the silence of an August > night you hear only crickets patiently > conversing with the stars. > > > -- Adam Zagajewski this is the sofar I read about the Self hah Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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