The Nothing and The Something

Between the laces of her fingers
There were empty spaces, places
That showed what wasn't her.

I'd trace the places with my own
Something, wondering what made her,
Her and what made I, me.

I found myself on the cul-de-sac
between her middle and her ring.
That sexy center, lingering.

I'd give up all of my inimitable
Parts, to find myself in the abyme,
Blending deeper into her herness, a real,

Real sublime. This separation’s superfluous,
Didn't you know? No one's an island,
This world's an archipelago, gathering.

I docked my Something all around her,
Harboring individuality, docking identity,
Beating to the cadence of her drum-mind-drum.

I left my repugnant self in the sea,
To become the protagonist of some bad noir,
And leaving behind the awful miasma of me,

I surrendered to becoming One with the divine resting place, her eyes.
The hand rested into the Nothing places, filling,
Feeling everything, everything inside.

“Where do you end and I begin?” She asked,
But Nothing speaks in silence, and she almost

Didn't hear the Nothing say, “There is no ‘I’.”

Darling dear, this infinitesimal line is yours
To disregard. “I” is an accoutrement,
The trapping that traps you in an “other” snare.

Dare, Darling, dare to be everywhere.
See the aesthetic in the dance. Infinity,
Between you and me, wholeness in a glance.

She looked away, not with insouciance,
Rather with something else in mind.
My dear, she said, there is beauty even in the Great Divide.

My gauche stare made her aware to
Her offense, too late, I looked away.
Her voice carrying me backward, toward

The Nothing, where I would stay. But she
Beckoned me forward and took my hand, for real.
She told me, "Diversity keeps this world alive, my Dear."

And as separation goes, she let go to correct -
My dear, archipelagos are groups of islands.
And then we loved, as both two and One, in the silence.

--

Mad Words List 5.8.18

Lace
Aesthetic
Inimitable
Infinitesimal
Cadence
Sexy
Noir
Gauche
Cul-de-sac
Superfluous
Insouciance
Accoutrement
Miasma
Abyme
Archipelago
Repugnant

--

My best friend asked me if my word lists ever have a theme, and I told her they usually don't. Not until I start to write does the poem gain a theme. I haven't asked for words with an intention, because I like how the natural preference of your words and my own life co-mingle and work together to create what the poem is about each week.

Is this poem going to be death? Yeah. Is this poem going to be about love? Yeah. Is this poem this week going to be about Something and Nothing, and maybe a little philosophical, but still concrete? Probably. :-)

Themes are about how we organize life. We don't really live theme-first, but theme-after. Theme is a reflection, an organization of recurring parts. They are the things you tie stories together with. Themes are all around us every day; they are part of our lives. They are part of life, so they end up being part of the poem.

Could I start from the beginning, with the theme in mind? Sure! I could ask for a list of words based around death, or based around work. And I may! For future poems, just for fun, to see what we can come up with. But I think sometimes I want to ask for a theme for the words just so I can turn it into something else. Turn work into play! We'll see how crazy it gets. :-)

Anyway, today's poem is about the balance between positive and negative space. It's about what's here and not here. It's about physical reality vs. the mental plane. It's about how we need to balance individuality with the group, which is often something we struggle with. We do have differences, but we need them. They are here for a reason, I believe. So we need to learn to appreciate the beauty of a group working together, but also appreciate the small differences that make people unique, and life so rich because of them! That balance is so important, as is love.