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I know the damn things are just geese--

White feathers, webbed feet, and that honk,

But some compartment in my brain

Makes everything into a symbol

And the white flock covering the corn field,

The crazy designs they make in the sky,

Reek of esoteric speech to me.

I could go to the doctor:

Doc, is there a disease

That makes you re-interpret everything?

That renders raw experience into clumps of meaning

Before I get to see it for what it is?

But by that time,

A snake is slithering around his neck,

The lighthouses on the wallpaper

Refer to that trip with the family,

And the song on the radio out in the hall

Is a message directly for me.

Everything on the surface

Gives way to endless depths.

Is it schizophrenia, fantasy,

Or hidden truths revealed?

And if I yell as loud as I can

And run over stubble at the geese,

What awesome thing sees me

Through those distant eyes?

When one man has reduced a fact of the imagination to be a fact to his understanding, I foresee that all men will at length establish their lives on that basis. ---H. D. Thoreau

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The following comments are for "Esoteric Speech"
by Icarus

Distant eyes
Many thanks for the ratings and comment. This certainly is an encouraging group.

( Posted by: Icarus [Member] On: February 1, 2005 )

Crows' eye view
Yeah, maybe when Reality Rat is completed (Did you see that the crows are back?), I should offer walking tours of Nazareth to faithful readers. Remember those faceted lenses they used to put in novelty eye glasses in the sixties? You'd need a whole different lens grinding technology for most people to see the world as it looks to me.
Thanks. This is probably my favorite comment of all time.

( Posted by: icarus [Member] On: February 4, 2005 )

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