Insomniac Awareness
Recent rewrite. When I first wrote and posted it, no one seemed to know what I meant by it. But now it’s becoming a favoured read aloud piece:
Insomniac Awareness
We who are hiding in our second bedrooms,
Licking the silver from the backs of our screens,
Are living in a different time zone
Of Insomniac Awareness.
Sometimes two, sometimes three, sometimes four or more
Lives are lived and lost each night.
In our rooms, by ourselves
Sitting precariously on the edge of our beds.
This is our legacy
The lasting perpetuity of our sensory species:
The glow that contests the light that once shone from our eyes,
Right up to the surface of our understanding.
What is not yet known.
Or what was known and long since forgotten.
Dances across the screen you stare into.
Tripping over your coded memories; in Real Time.
Who are you reading this?
Do you know
What perturbs your sleep-walk into the night?
Or are you merely waiting for the screen to pull you through?
Into your own quiet world,
Where things that count never change.
And no one is dreaming you but your mother,
Who has left you now for another child.
©Igor Goldkind 2017
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WIN! THE REVOLUTION IN ONLY 2 DIGITS
Last Minute Re-Versioning. I think it works better now. Soon we will be launching the animated version of the illustration for the piece by the intensely wonderful and visually lyrical Jeff Christenten. Thanks to Evan@Madefire. As well as an original composition for the entire multimedia piece from the intense genius of Gilad Atzmon. Please stay tuned. Please enjoy. Please comment good or bad. What’s the difference 
?
THE REVOLUTION IN ONLY 2 DIGITS
Home again.
Thomas, you were wrong to doubt it:
You Can Go Home Again and
Bask in the healing sun of Osiris
This isn’t home
This is recovery.
From the fevered scurvy of my own forgetfulness.
I eat limes for breakfast, lunch and dinner now;
My bowels move regularly now.
And I feel just like Thomas Payne
His bursting desire to model the ideal citizen
Not our uniforms, but our blood, sinew and muscle.
To present to the Crowning Glory and
To the Revolutionary Congress and
To the Revolutionary French Senate
Thomas and his Pain made the American struggle a personal fight:
The universal pull of the upright ape on the chains holding him down.
Chains forged by the forgetful hairless ones.
The ones we will overcome.
But we are not revolutionaries!
We are the Revolution.
We are what happens next.
The R/Evolution of our Selves: the inner/outer seeing through Alice’s mirror
Into mindful awareness
Into homage to our honored masters and their children:
The ever loving human race.
We have already won the revolution.
We have already won the revolution.
2 Shots were fired from far, far ago:
One from Lovelace’s boudoir,
Another from Giordano’s spinning wheels and the memory of his funeral pyre.
And from the bit of the apple Alan choked down,
We have already won the revolution.
We just need to take charge.
We have already won the revolution.
In only 2 digits.
THE REVOLUTION IN ONLY 2 DIGITS
Home again.
Thomas, you were wrong to doubt it:
You Can Go Home Again and
Bask in the healing sun of Osiris
This isn’t home
This is recovery.
From the fevered scurvy of my own forgetfulness.
I eat limes for breakfast, lunch and dinner now;
My bowels move regularly now.
And I feel just like Thomas Payne
His bursting desire to model the ideal citizen
Not our uniforms, but our blood, sinew and muscle.
To present to the Crowning Glory and
To the Revolutionary Congress and
To the Revolutionary French Senate
Thomas and his Pain made the American struggle a personal fight:
The universal pull of the upright ape on the chains holding him down.
Chains forged by the forgetful hairless ones.
The ones we will overcome.
But we are not revolutionaries!
We are the Revolution.
We are what happens next.
The R/Evolution of our Selves: the inner/outer seeing through Alice’s mirror
Into mindful awareness
Into homage to our honored masters and their children:
The ever loving human race.
We have already won the revolution.
We have already won the revolution.
2 Shots were fired from far, far ago:
One from Lovelace’s boudoir,
Another from Giordano’s spinning wheels and the memory of his funeral pyre.
And from the bit of the apple Alan choked down,
We have already won the revolution.
We just need to take charge.
We have already won the revolution.
In only 2 digits.
igorgoldkind
The Poesie of Igor Goldkind – Reciting Truth to Power 