the gods xix by Donald Kuspit
i unburdened myself to you,
and when there was nothing left
to burden you with,
i burdened myself with you,
carrying you through realms
of conscious disbelief
to unconscious belief.
once a comfortable nest of meanings,
my consciousness fell apart
on the rack of doubt
triggered by a wonder
that outgrew its restraints.
ideas became weeds
along ancient highways of thought,
which became byways of life,
detours of meaning
on a meaningless map of mind.
so i carried you as far
as my crippled consciousness could,
through all the wastelands
of thought,
safely arriving at the paradise
of thoughtlessness.
my agony built an altar
in the ruins of my consciousness,
so i could worship you freely,
you being the first and last fruits
of my life,
grateful at last for its gift,
which you and your love are.
© 2005-2009 Per Contra: The International Journal of the Arts, Literature and Ideas