Living in a state of psychic unrest, in a Borderland, is what makes poets write and artists create.
I am visible-see this Indian face-yet I am invisible. I both blind them with my beak nose and am their blind spot. But I exist, we exist. They'd like to think I have melted in the pot. But I haven't. We haven't.
My 'awakened dreams' are about shifts. Thought shifts, reality shifts, gender shifts: one person metamorphoses into another in a world where people fly through the air, heal from mortal wounds. I am playing with my Self, I am playing with the world's soul, I am the dialogue between my Self, and el espirítu del mundo. I change myself, I change the world.
We are taught that the body is an ignorant animal intelligence dwells only in the head. But the body is smart. It does not discern between external stimuli and stimuli from the imagination. It reacts equally viscerally to events from the imagination as it does to real events.
In trying to become 'objective,' Western culture made 'objects' of things and people when it distanced itself from them, thereby losing 'touch' with them.
the world I create in writing compensates for what the real world does not give me.
Enough of passivity and passing time while waiting for the boy friend, the girl friend, the Goddess, or the Revolution.
The act of writing is the act of making soul, alchemy.
I am mad - but I choose this madness.
I want the freedom to carve and chisel my own face, to staunch the bleeding with ashes, to fashion my own gods out of my entrails.
By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it.
All reaction is limited by, and dependant on, what it is reacting against.
Why am I compelled to write? Because the writing saves me from this complacency I fear. Because I have no choice.
Write in the kitchen, lock yourself up in the bathroom. Write on the bus or the welfare line, on the job or during meals.
I can't seem to stay out of my own way.
But I'm more scared of not writing.
These my two hands / quick to slap my face / before others could slap it.
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