1 February 2024

The light is streaming in or fading away.
Who can tell?
My categoeries are aligning with reality or phasing out.
Who can tell?
Stumbling onward in a context of great uncertainty.
Deeper into the ocean.
I must move on into greater pain.
I’ll be the one if you want me to.
The see-bed of pearls, is it in sight or have i gone too far?
I can’t see past my veil of categories.
The dull thud of an atom bomb.
The wail of a whale.
The flattening shockwave.
The gentle wet lick of a serpent’s tongue.
Knocking aside and disintergrating my net of categories.
Go ... Deeper ...

I asked chatGPT to rearrange the poem:

Local image #96, a canvas of light,
On February's first, a mysterious night.

The rays cascade, or do they fade?
A dance of shadows, a twilight parade.

Categories align, or do they stray?
Reality's grip, or slipping away?

Stumbling forward in uncertainty's embrace,
Deeper into the ocean, a vast, unknown space.

Must I tread on, into the pain,
The path ahead, a relentless terrain.

I'll be the one, if you so choose,
Navigating depths, where shadows bruise.

The seabed of pearls, is it within view?
Or have I ventured too far, the horizon askew?

Past my veil of categories, sight obscured,
A world unraveling, perspectives blurred.

A dull thud echoes, an atom bomb's song,
A whale's wail, a melody so strong.

Flattening shockwaves, serpent's tongue's lick,
Disintegrating nets, in chaos we pick.

Go deeper, the call from the abyss,
Unraveling mysteries, an eternal kiss.

--

I have to say I think my poem is better.