If we come from the water, I conclude that we come from different kinds of it. I will meet a person and in his eyes see an ocean, deep and never ending; then I will meet another person and feel as though I have stepped into a shallow puddle on the street, there is nothing in it. Or maybe some of us come from the water, and some of us come from somewhere else; then it's all a matter of finding those who are the same as us.
With his release imminent, Knight seems more unsettled than ever. He scratches furiously at his knees. Jail, he's realized, might not be all bad. There's routine and order in jail, and he's able to click into a survival mode that is not too dissimilar, in terms of steeliness of mental state, to the one he'd perfected during winters in the woods. "I'm surrounded in here by less than desirable people," he says, "but at least I wasn't thrown into the waters of society and expected to swim.
A book about books is like a poem about poetry:Books are knowledge, paid for, all.Readers - horses in a stall.Stallions should always run.Lest they stale become, in turn.Running waters are most clear.In some books, you disappear –lose yourself, and track of time.How I wish that one was mine...Mine, to have, to write, to read...Mine, just like a flying steed.Mine, forever, - to improve.Would I then, of me, approve?I would not, I can't... myself.I'm but dust, swept off a shelf.Fly, can I, just 'til I'm settled,down, beside my flower, petalled.
DeepYou, you’re deep waterAnd I’m scared because I can’t defaulterI don’t know how to swim, So, if I jump in,I’ll be consumed by your waves.I’ll try to keep my head above the rage.But you’ll just swallow up my whole.My entire being will be controlled.If I were to dive,I could no longer thrive.You would consume my being;Leaving me breathless, not breathing.Is there a medium I can prescribe?That would allow me to disguiseThe fear I gather in my bones. I just can’t swim in the water of morone. Do you possess a life supportTo hold me up? My last resort.If I jump in, I’ll drown in bends. Your love is suffocating, nothing can amend.November 20, 2011