Breathless
Take a deep breath and hold it. Hold it. Hold it. Keep holding it. Continue holding it Hold it until you have used everything you have taken in. Everything you know, everything you’ve seen, everything you hold precious and dear. Keep holding it all in. Until you are exhausted. Until you are out of breath and desperately need to take another one But don’t. Gasp before you pass out. Now you are Breathless. If you don’t breath, you die. If you hold your breath, you will pass out before you die. If a man presses his knee against your neck, you will die. Your body makes decisions your mind cannot over rule. Between your private inner world and the cold, indifferent outer world… Lies the breath. You draw the air outside you into your deepest, inner self. Then you release it, if you’re permitted to, back into the world. Who’s breath is it now? Is it your breath, you draw in? Or the world’s breath, you let out? Who are you and where are the boundaries of yourself? That separate yourself from yourself? In your breath, In the breath you share with the world, The world that includes you, that is you. All around you, without you and within you. The breath traverses the universe and your soul, Without borders, without visas, without armed guards checking your identity. Hold your breath. In anticipation. In anticipation of your death. In anticipation of your arrival in the world. in anticipation of the catastrophe that awaits you, You call life. Hold your breath until you can’t hold it anymore Now you are Breathless. This album, this sequence of sound is a collaboration between my good friends Frederic, Jair and Katarina and my self. It is a kaleidoscope of images, of sounds, of beats, of words. Of intakes of breath, of exhalations, declarations, lamentations and celebrations. Of sounds, images and words colluding to find meaning. Between breaths. Between beats. Between small events and catastrophes. Between the moments of our life Where we can all meet Alone and Breathless. When we cannot make love instead of war, we make art. Have fun.
https://igorgoldkindpoet.com/2022/03/28/sunflower-seeds-inside-your-pockets/
Blank Child
Partly you, partly me, partly every child that's come to be. The pain and suffering we adults have caused him, Reaches far beyond his Anonymity. Look at his blank stare Look at his blank stare Look at his blank stare. Look at the blood on his matted hair. His eyes are emptied of his childhood world. What was stolen from him The rest of us shared. Paper Bag I am a paper bag, I am. I’m not the smart one, I’m not the successful one I’m not the tall one who always won and Then died. I am a paper bag. I’m only as good as what I can carry. I am a paper bag, I’m not plastic, not I. I am paper: rough, brown and thin I’m not waterproof, you know. And I can’t hold any liquids or gases within. I only have energy for the stuff that really matters. You know, I’m a paper bag. I’m only as good as what I can carry. I am a paper bag. Wrinkled and used and often abused Thrown on the floor. Buried deep inside your drawers. I am a paper bag. That sometimes falls apart. I’m only as good as what I can carry. Nobody Talks to me Anymore Today was every other day. My boss says, "Hey Joe, where you going with that staple gun in your hand?" I draw a blank on my face and turn to face his. "You don't really know, do you, Joe? You don't know where you're going. You don't really know who you are. You don't know much of anything anymore, Do you now, Joe?" Then he laughs at me In front of everybody He laughs and points at What everybody but me can see. And everybody laughs and they laugh and they laugh But nobody talks to me anymore. My boss don’t talk to me anymore. My neighbors don’t talk to me anymore. My doctor don’t talk to me anymore. My mother don’t talk to me anymore. My father don’t talk to me because He's long since gone Flown far away from the words to this song. I call my girlfriend up on the telephone She says, "Joe, I'm not your girlfriend anymore" And hangs up the phone. Nobody talks to me anymore. I call my doctor on the telephone He says, "hello, is there anybody there"? I say, "it's me, Joe, doctor help me, nobody talks to me anymore!" My doctor coughs and hangs up the phone. Nobody talks to me anymore. I call on my priest in the church down the road I say "Hello, Father? my Father, is that really you?" "Please tell me, dear Father, what should I do?" My priest says "Joe, God don't love you anymore" And throws me out through God's front door. Even God don't talk to me anymore. So, I go down to a bar to have a little swim. There's a bar stool there where the Xmas tree should have been. The bartender looks at me, But he doesn't say a word. I hold up two fingers and point at the sky So he pours me a double, ten-year-old rye. Which I toss down and motion for another While calling him "my brother". The bartender stares at my face. As silent as the stone in his wall. Nobody talks to me anymore. On the street, the headlights blind my blinking eyes. Strangers push past me, some I know, most I despise. A cop car pulls up and flashes his bright light on me The cop points his flashlight in my eyes so that I can't see. There's nothing he or I need to say. He won't arrest me. It just ain't worth his time to talk to me anymore. A ghost walks up and stares into my face. He doesn't say a word; just hangs there in space Instead, he spins ribbons of colored lights Inside my head. There's no knowing with ghosts no more The dead don't even talk to me anymore. Suddenly I see an explosion of lights There's trumpets and harps and angels in sight A liquor store, neon vision of light Promises me spirits of salvation and delight If I just step inside. While next door, a gun store slowly cracks open its door . . . I am my father and my mother's son and I’ve never before bought me a gun. But nobody, nobody talks to me anymore. 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 at 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. The Numbers Game In the end, it was the numbers that did us in. They lined us up into military rows And assigned us all numbers One after one after one after one after one…. How many, nobody knows. You see, it’s a numbers game It’s all the same You’re not to blame, You’re not your name You’re your numbers. Let me explain how it’s done, And how this game can never be won. See, there are good numbers and bad numbers High numbers and sad numbers. Sometimes high numbers are good and low numbers are bad. And sometimes low numbers are good and high numbers are sad. It all depends on who is doing the counting. It’s not you or me Nor the numbers either. They don’t know that they’re just numbers after all; although, The numbers do count on each other. Just not you or me Because we are never free Of Big Numbers and small numbers, Negative numbers and imaginary numbers, You see, it’s a numbers game. It’s all the same You’re not to blame, You’re not your name You’re your numbers. Let me explain How it’s done. And how this game can never be won Prisoner number… Credit Score number GPA number SAT Number Zip code number Blood pressure number Heart rate number DOB & TOD numbers House number Gas number Phone number Electricity number Room number Water number Dog tags number Social Security number Bank account number Table number Sibling number Temperature number Flight number Apartment number License number Vehicle registration number Alcohol level number Height, weight and age get numbers I hear you scream: “I’m not a number, I’m a human being!!” Sure you are, Now take a number. It’s for your own protection There’s safety in numbers. Numbers can answer all of your questions: How far, how long, how deep, how high, how many, How often? Just not ‘how come’? Anyone can count, But you can’t count on anyone. See, it’s a numbers game That can’t be won It’s a numbers game It’s just how it’s done. It’s all the same. You’re not to blame You’re not insane! You’re not your name You’re your numbers. Now count to ten And start all over again. A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Igor Goldkind
Fevers of the Mind 
3 comments