Awed by the simple truth


It was not I that chose,
non ordinary chose me, perhaps
out of curiosity. I have become
Nagual, a trickster, student
of the shape shifter, party to
that unknown realm past the
deception of that called reality.
Now an animal, now a man caught
in a Castaneda datura delirium.
What is real, what is the
dream? Something is missing
pulled from past and present.
The mind has become a broken
chair with three legged support,
an apparatus of contradiction,
neither useful or needed.
Where the seat of experience
was the glue of logic there
is now separation, only vision.
From the litmus colored
sky I veil my face, shroud my
body, hiding all that I
could be or should have
been . The urine tests of
years is a stain upon this
Kubla Khan dome. Khayyam’s jug
of wine has turned to vinegar,
the loaf of bread moldy,
and you are not here
beside me in this wilderness,
this corpus prison. There
exists only this solitary realm.
The song of life a lament wailing
on bended knees before a
maggot starved mind. The ink
still wet upon the parchment of
this soul, a scribble of paranoid
demented schizophrenic babble.
Written there a simple truth: life
does not lie….or, does it?

Copyright: 2010, Donald Harbour

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9 thoughts on “Awed by the simple truth

  1. Hi Donald,

    How serendipitous that I should click on your poem just as the postman arrived with a package from Rowdy!

    This is very deep. I’ve already researched a few words! Some great if a little discomfitting thoughts.

    Like

  2. You know, I think it took at least four volumes before I realized how much money he was making from my need to connect. Yaqui way of knowledge, indeed.

    Like

  3. “apparatus of contradiction”…”the song of life a lament”…”Maggot starved mind”…wow, these are some powerful images!
    Very emotional, deep, and almost like a nightmare…good job!

    Like

  4. The middle is what caught me:

    “The mind has become a broken
    chair with three legged support,
    an apparatus of contradiction,
    neither useful or needed.”

    This could be a poem, all by itself.

    Like

  5. I like this Donald…very much so….ending with a question is wonderful…..its alll about the questions….not the answers…..no Bombay…sipping my daily oz …sometimes 2…Havana 7 yr old rum…the best…..black dress….ya maybe a sequel looking for it….actually my dear partner has a beautiful black dress so dont have to look far. Teaching of Don Juan….no kidding read them all…SEE AS OPPOSED TO LOOKING…. and “stopping the world merely is first step to seeing”…one of my favorites…. I could go on and on….but I will catch up next time…..cheers

    Like

  6. Wow. I love this. I was caught in from the beginning (your mention and invocation of the Nagual) through your hallucination, your speaker’s sorrow and paranoid questioning, all the way until the end. The whole thing undergirded with a questioning of the basic reality in front of him, which when the illusion of sanity melts away, it can be a scary thing. It seems like we both went to the land of delirium this week for the prompt.

    Your imagery was nicely descriptive too. My favourite lines out of this were:

    “The urine tests of/years is a stain upon this/Kubla Khan dome.”

    and

    “The song of life a lament wailing/on bended knees before a/maggot starved mind. ”

    Well done.

    -Nicole

    Like

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