the revolution of everyday life

065



some said that at root life was essentially pain and suffering
others came down on the side of bliss
such distinctions however were no longer of any concern to him

.

064



wealth seemed far easier to attain
than the required destitution

.

063



he was left searching
for the meaningless through meaning
.

062



he remained coiled about the loneliest part

.

061



to allow words to undo themselves
for inevitably they always do

.

060



even when he maintained complete silence
he still found that he talked too much

.

059



after many conversations
he thought what a worthy task it would be
to free all those who had been snared by hope

.

058



somewhere a plant needed water,
but first he too must wither...

.

057



picking up his razor he stood transfixed watching
the face in the mirror become gradually denuded
when it was stripped clean he set down the razor
and stroked his cheek only to discover that not
a single whisker had been touched.

.

056



to leave oneself behind...

.

055



even the crumpled tissue
that he tossed into a wastebasket
seemed deserving of his respect

.

054



by way of personal history
all that he could come up with
were a used band-aid
and a few nail clippings...

.

053



he sliced some bread
so as to linger among the crumbs

.

052



sitting there
bundled up against the cold
he muttered a few words
and then fell silent

until overcome
by something akin to gratitude

.

051



all his saviours
were broken.

.

050



one evening, sensing a peculiar stillness,
he suddenly hurled himself forward
in a not-so-vain attempt to leave his impression
in the air.

.

049



purity, unity, truth...

he could no longer be fooled.
mastery was just another cop-out.

.

048



some days
each breath found
its wailing wall

.

047



some, whose presence was most real,
were never more than a voice.

.

046



for the most part conversation had become difficult, if not impossible.
there were no longer points to be made nor understood,
instead it was simply a matter of crumbling.

.

045



like all disquietudes
uncertainty was its own perfection

.

044



it was important not to confuse
time with the eternal

for even time tended to wear out

.

043



stay beneath things

but when humility was needed most
there was nothing to be found

.

042



he swallowed a flame

but by doing so only
managed to snuff it out

.

041



one shelf was always kept free of books
silence and emptiness were waiting to be read too

.

040



there was a time when words perhaps
provided a certain nourishment
but over the years he had developed
something akin to a verbal bulimia

.

039



hoping to rediscover something of infancy
he raised a book to his lips
stuck out his tongue and gave it a lick
only to discover his own blandness

.

038



each speck of dander
a tiny memento mori

.

037



taking stock he noted that
the bulk of his life went unused

.

036



each morning he awoke
to the impossibility of the world

.

035



a continual return to beginnings

.

034



aim and shoot...
take a photograph...
capture an image...

so many traps

but holding the camera
he felt that he was the one
who had become ensnared

.

033



Unable to exterminate his vices,
he simply no longer had the heart to do the deed,
he wound up living among them
like an old lady surrounded by strays.

.

032



he kept a lamp without a light bulb
confident that one day
he would turn it on
and all would go dark

.

031



the gentle ruthless

.

030



he began to wonder if we were perhaps
naught but the ullage of being

.

029



memories were no longer viewed as vestiges
but rather as eruptions
.

028



He rubbed his eyes.
Yet what needed to be extirpated
was not any obstruction to sight,
but rather the very habit of seeing.

.

027



too often he feared that he had been misunderstood

others seemed prone to confusing his honesty
with kindness

.

026




it was simply a matter of entering
a space that one had never left

.

025



it was as if the tiniest of birds
fluttered at the end of each breath

.

024



some days no matter how far
nor how fast he travelled
he remained unmoving

.

023



"imagine peace"

he tried
repeatedly

but could only manage
a lull

.

022



obviously an apology could be proffered before or after;
but it occurred to him that the best recourse
might simply be for each word, gesture or action
to arise from an unformed yet no less acute regret.

.

021



he sought his cave

found it
without ever rising
from his couch

.

020



the most glorious light
was usually the one denied

.

019



pulling on his socks
it came to him that sometimes
this was all one could do
to avert disaster

.

018



Someone said, "What name is not diminishment?"
He couldn't help but agree. Yet as he began to recite,
one name after the other, both mentally and out loud,
he came to realize that this was rather as a door
which both framed and opened vaster spaces.

.

017



some thought
that certain geometries
could lead to greater perfection

he however believed
just the opposite

.

016



more often than not
any attempt to avoid confusing
innocence and ignorance
was futile

.

Just so you know...

all images and text © Michael Tweed