Plateau Context

Loganhurst, fresh and clean.

More T-shirts, what do you mean?


Stop reading now.

Look away, click away, swing away.
Close all that you have.
Night has come, and the stars
Are all we need.
All follow what is not behind.

Stop reading now.

Invite not this story,
This double negative,
This contraction that uses
My heart as an apostrophe.



When I met the Plateau,
I was alone,
Knew nothing but the ground and the sky.
I was high
In the air,
In the passive tense.

I spoke,
I heard myself speak,
I wondered
What is Context,
What is the context of life,
The Real and the Un-Real?



The difference became:

What is found after Discovery,
What Remains is Remembered.

The recurring presence of the Pyramid
Is what makes it great.

It Lasts in your eyes,
Your ears,
Solid to the Fingers.
Existence is a Monument,
An impression that can be shared
With other minds than your own.

Context.

What is Real and Un-Real.

What is agreed as unreal and unreal.



After the Savannah,
After Existentialism,
After post modern forgetfulness,
Remains a mystery of depth,
Remains Memory,
Memory made most by emotional association.

We are but the memory of what is Capitalized
And what is not.

But memory of our Actions,
In our mind,
And the mind of others

(that separation being the Bane
of the Human condition).

Feeling emotes reality.

Has religious science,
Scientific religion left us
Without context?

The context of emotion,
Of feeling making us real.

We live to feel.

I remember only what meant most to me,
As we are,
As all we become.

We will feel we.

(And I know I keep saying it)

, and so I will become you,

And the words
(except math)
Will end.

(Except what records must remain)

…a World without Speaking,
Yet retained, the necessary Art of spelling out the context.



Sitting so cross-legged,
Upon the Edge of the plateau,
I laughed at myself,
At my talking to myself,
Pretending I’m someone,
Keeping Sane,
Keeping Time,
Keeping hope for some magical More

Than just me.



(next is Fate)