Book: Poems: the self: existentialism, nothing, something, nobody, self: poem
A book excerpt from the Iconoclast Press online library.
Like volcanoes do we emerge, built up and destroyed by our own eructations. Life is naught but existential exhibitionism- the show‑and‑tell of nothing’s somethingness; we suffer to become, then we become, then we suffer because we will cease, then we cease; yea, we force the separate self to exist and then grieve that it must die.
To manifest oneself intentionally upon life is naught but existential exhibitionism; the show‑and‑tell of nothing’s somethingness. Self is the last nail in its own coffin. Only the obscure person is safe from their own self.
One gets tricked into existing‑ cajoled by the ubiquity of insufficient potentialities; a nobody clinging to somebodiness.
Self is the temptation.
A scaffolding is raised around a structure in order to repair it. Eventually, however, the inner structure crumbles and is forgotten. Generations later only the tottering scaffolding remains. But by then it is called self.
(excerpted from THE DREAM OF BEING: aphorisms, ideograms, and aislings, by Jack Haas)
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Books by Jack Haas. Autobiography, Memoir, Spirituality, Mysticism, Comparative Religion, Poetry, Art, Photography.