Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I will not taste the taste of bitter
nor filter views from what is true
and what is not by indignant attitude.
Nor will I be rude or feel insulted by
a word or two, nor view the world
as if it were the amplitude of a rash
indifference.

I know the difference
between over-action and under.

I annihilate anger by listening to the
sound of thunder, recognizing it's
power. How or when I endeavor to end
the various blends of unwanted
potentially lethal reactions depends
on perception of the fractions of worth,
the discovery of value and purpose,
consistent thought, resistance to
perceiving the worthwhile for naught.

I taught myself to tie my shoes.
I caught my profile in the rear view
mirror. I imagined it was me because
it was.

I have risen above the abacus.
I count myself worthy,
no subtractions necessary, no
multi-colored beads to remove
from a threaded metal mechanism,
no counter less or more, the pure
perfect pitch of a newly memorized
score only now just written.

I am smitten with discovery.
I love me. I am born to love.

And though I am not at all attracted
to Narcissus, I am the Echo of myself,
mirrored by a profile view.
I will not taste the taste of bitter
nor filter views from what is true.

I am a believer. I believe in
all possibilities in the diadem.
I get down on my knees
to worship them.

Work it work it

I guess that means you liked my poem? Thanks, mingo!

this reads well, as I read it with the inflections meant for me,
commanding my attention whilst my silent voice within kept
going until the final... that maxwell drop that tasted so good.

thanks very much, Cecil!

I have risen above the abacus.
I count myself worthy,
no subtractions necessary, no
multi-colored beads to remove
from a threaded metal mechanism,
no counter less or more, the pure
perfect pitch of a newly memorized
score only now just written.

I am smitten with discovery.
I love me. I am born to love.

well said! this morning i read about why it is so hard for us to love ourselves...why we loose the spontaneous love of a child for ourselves...so many years of brainwashing and seemingly harmless re-inforcement. and then we wonder why life is so hard. when it could be so much easier if we could just learn to love ourselves again. unconditionally this time.