Daubmir' Tower

I am released from forms,
from the perpendiculars,
straight lines, blocks, boxes, binds
of thought
into the hues, shadings, rises,
flowing bends and blends
of sight:

I allow myself eddies of meaning:
yield to a direction of significance
like a stream through the geography
of my mind:
you can find in my thoughts
swerves of action
like the inlet's cutting edge:
there are dunes of motion,
organizations of grass,
white sandy paths of remembrance
in the overall wandering of
mirroring mind —

but I cannot draw
the sum of these events:
I can reach no conclusions,
erect no boundaries,
shutting out and shutting in,
separating inside from outside:
I can draw no lines:

As manifold events of sand
change the dune's shape
that will not be the same shape
tomorrow, so I am willing to go along,
to accept the becoming thought,
to stake off no beginnings or ends,
establish no walls:

I will try to fasten into order
enlarging grasps of disorder,
widening scope, but enjoying
the freedom that scope eludes my grasp,
that there is no finality of vision,
that I have perceived nothing completely,
that tomorrow a new emotion
is a new emotion.


Daubmir's Salmon

In the cool shadow of nowhere
a salmon leaps up to find a weir
it could not even know
was never there.


Daubmir's Ultimate Nadir

I am in the presence of another sky,
Gone are the constellations
Most of the firmament is empty,
the intensest black shines there alone,
though to the left, in the nadir,
below the lowest part of the celestial sphere,
there survives a mass of reddening stars
as if the cosmic vault is discarding the world's embers
in recognition of a closing chaos.


Daubmir's Water Feast

This is the wet ridge of the sky,
the line between life and drowning.

Drink of this water, which is
the mind that dreams
where the sky meets
the synaptic stream.

This is the sound of translucence
still throbbing in the canal of silence.

Eat of the salt of confluence,
and the sweet of rhythm's imperfection
when melody, harmony, and cadence
meet in final trascendence.


Daubmir's Sea of Logic

My famished soul
Swallows itself,
My body rips open in pain
And eats the night,
Her long silk robe
Bursting into flame inside me.

My fishing mind
Catches the oceanic shadow
Whilst some part of my being
Watches the flesh
And the spirit
Becoming two wings
And no one can say or paint with word
What the engendered bird holds up
In its flight to heaven.

My eyes nailed to the dark
Like paintings, I can write
with an invisible blood
And I can tell you to keep watching
Until my night reaches you:
Look deep into her face then
And if you keep steadfast
In the vision,
You will become a fire.


Daubmir's Night Light