#poetry - Sam Nickel

"Sam Nickel"

Sam Nickel
  Felt a Tickle
in the Spot
  He called a Pickle.

He Came to Know it
  as a Warning
that His Bladder
  was Exploding.

So He Knelt Down
  Knee to the Ground
and Unpocketed
  His Shortround.

In the Grass Came
  Loosey Wax Flame
Something Running
  out His True Name.

He could not be
  like the Oak Tree
that is Why
  He Took a Knee.

But to Avoid Scorn
  Where He was Born
He Urinated
  on the Acorn.

 

the paths, the gate and the architect

"....and I arrived at the gate.
The name on the gate was "Moment";
from there two very different paths
stretched for an eternity....."
--d.jolicoeur paraphrasing f.nietzsche

"...thus spoke jolicoeur-ustra..."

my friend paraphrased Nietche for me
till my thoughts become clear about the Gate,
the Paths and the Eternal Architect.

...so then behold these paths if you would,
and if you would let them lead us on,
as a well-wrought gently curving stair might,
they would lead us toward abysmal void
or toward the purest source of light;

but do not follow or be led by sight,
these paths, therein the truest knowledge of all,
are not to walk, but to be known as signs---
for what can architecture signify
but that an architect existed, right?

you must see the paths without eyes
to know them truly---to know them, not sense surmise.
and if you would know the architect,
as you would know his architecture,
you must signify need for one to rise;

annihilate the paths---let end touch end,
REND! the architect will soon return to mend.
if there is a gate so inscribed "moment"

it is this eternity that we call
the event an architect conceives all,
it is an eternal moment of rise and fall.

(and thus spoke ortiz)