Today we go behind the lines of the 35th poem of Unreconciled Doors, “The Knife Catcher”.
This poem is complete stream of consciousness and followed an if not intense, but I would say, disciplined practise of daily meditation, that really opened up the universal stream.
I will attempt to decipher what the language used in today’s abridged featured image actually meant to me when I was writing the piece. (The full four and a bit page poem is available now as part of the full collection-see base of blog).
“To live with the volume down”- This is about conformity and constriction and not living the life that you want. I think that is why “given up” followed immediately as many give up on their dreams and aspirations and settle for a sedentary, sanitised existence-Maybe we all do in a way exchanging the climb for comfort.
“A paper cup can hold all the water in the world if it chooses to”-This is me trying to puncture holes in reality. I have always had a feeling that nothing is impossible or whatever reality is, we can not see it all, we are maybe previewing a projected front-end, but we have no access to the good stuff under the hood unless we go looking for it- ‘if it chooses to”
“The hand still swollen”-Here our protagonist refers back to the very start of the full poem, when he tried to catch a knife on the way down (as you do!).
-and that the hand is bandaged in “folded chances”. Yes, I have no idea either what this adjective is doing beside that noun, but it sounded great.
The last three lines deal with repetition and perhaps the infinite loop or cyclical nature of life, earthly existence or the universe itself.(I think).
For whatever reason, our narrator has chosen over and over again to take “a look at life” (rather than be fully in the messy business of it) and
“caught the falling knives”.
Now the attempt to catch one knife on the way down may have been considered naive, but to partake in this dangerous endeavour over and over again is surely insanity!
This may have been my subconscious telling me, in, one, or maybe more facets of my life to stop engaging in a fruitless endeavour or to stop repeating the same mistakes over and over again.
Either way, I got a poem out of it!
Algo.
Algo Poetry-Behind the Lines 