Self Portrait

Naked oblivion without pretense,
A clear light, shining in darkness,
Swirling silence, echoing without media,
Timeless songs and heatless fire,
The circle and the star,
Holes in the firmament,
A cellophane dream punctured
By imaginary knives,
And everything shifts, morphs
Changes in form and substance
Into insubstantial wisps of fancy
And ennui.
Then storms, cacophonous and raging,
Thoughts like atoms smash together,
Vaporizing in ephemeral flashes of insight,
Fleeting,
Without proper instrumentation,
Cannot be analyzed, merely imprinted,
On layered membranes of anxiety, loss, self-reprobation,
Processed with emulsion of dream, nostalgia,
Secret hopes and rescue fantasy,
Child-like wonder and grown-up hate,
Jumbled and calcified into the shape of a man