Lachrymology **

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
the following was supposed to be my "masterpiece" or thesis in an advanced poetry workshop. i was supposed to use the voice of someone i admired (i picked maynard james keenan, lead singer of the band tool) and this piece focused on their beautiful album, "Lateralus". i believe that if you know their music and listen to this particular album, you'll find they've almost found solace within their music. it's something i can't seem to find. or at least couldn't find at the time.

the mention of the temple of sacred mirrors is actually an allusion to the chapel of sacred mirrors which is an art studio i visited twice in New York City. it's made up of artwork by alex grey and if you're not familiar with his work, look him up. it's rather amazing. (see picture attached to poem, it's an alex grey)

**Lachrymology: the study of crying as physical and mental release

Submitted: December 12, 2008

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Submitted: December 12, 2008

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"Recognize this as a holy gift and celebrate this chance to be alive and breathing
chance to be alive and breathing.
This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality. Embrace this moment. Remember. We are eternal.
All this pain is an illusion."

-TooL

Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind miscommunication

in the temple of sacred mirrors

time abandoned him as Knowledge had abandoned Everyman

what Was and Had Been died with

smoking embers

waning toward dawn

things that mattered took flight

accosted him

flittering birds bright wings of the past presentmelded into each other

now and never and couldhavebeen all ran amok, fought, collided

warriors which never should have met

clashed killed created

the mirrors started speaking!rattling

not a single rupture just a vibrationstream

all sides reflected all sides all at once and light... when chakras

align in the body

i can finally feel the melody finally know what it means to be living

straightened out my head and hips and

reds and blues and dozens of hues blend in unison

form a body of pinkandyellowpurple lines of light

alex grey's architecture of the sacred, holy embrace of the Mother

muscles are seas of the body my muscles rippling to embrace you

crumpling at the sight of you

eyes fixed straight ahead

my lines converge with yours and the mirrors lines of light and shape

cut across beneath below beside dissecting causing uniformity through confusion

causing this sense that

everything is the same if it appears that way

the mirrors showed him with blinding eyes

I opened my eye

and there we were

a million separate bodies reflecting separate mind ? collective consciousness

mirrored in his eyes

in the temple of sacred mirrors time loses meaning

drowns amidst a sea of sparkling stars

reflecting constantly off one another

infinity embodied


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