The Word

In the beginning
was the word
- NO!
Not that which remains
after each orgasmic
‘Fuck yes!’
instead a negation
of the flow,
a poisonous resistance
to letting go.
No is to ‘fuck yes,’
what
‘I can’t,’ and
‘should not,’
is to life’s bliss.
Put it all back
into the box
and chain
with padlocks.
The big bang chaos
gives birth
eventually to order
but first the
utter devastation
fragmentation,
separation,
disorientation.
How did that possibility
become this?
Such disorder,
solar and polar winds,
extreme intensity,
growth rage,
from life to extinction.
Nudge the box
to the edge
of the nearest
event horizon.
Consciousness,
patience,
creation
will reach out
remember
re-connect
and
bring it all back
to bliss.
I’d love to here your thoughts on this poem, feel free to leave a comment below.
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