#11
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The great stranger in House of Joy
in my hotel room overlooking Desamparados' Clanging Clock,
with the french balcony doors closed, and luminescent fixture out "my room took on a near eastern aspect" that is I was reminded of Burroughs with heart beating—and the blue wall of Polynesian Whorehouse, and mirror framed in black as if in Black Bamboo-and wooden slated floor and I in my bed, waiting, and slowly drifting away but still thinking in my body till my body turned to passive wood and my soul rocked back & forth preparing to slide out on eternal journey backwards from my head in the dark An hour, realizing the possible change in consciousness that the Soul is independent of the body and its death and that the Soul is not Me, it is the wholly other "whisper of consciousness" from Above, Beyond, Afuera— till I realize it existed in all its splendor in the Ideal or Imaginary Toward which the me will travel when the body goes to the sands of Chancay And at last, lying in bed covered my body with a splendid robe of indian manycolors wool, I gazed up at the grey gate of Heaven with a foreign eye and yelled in my mind "Open up, for I am the Prince of eternity come back to myself after a long journey in chaos, open the Door of Heaven, My Soul, for I have come back to claim my Ancient House Let the Servants come forth to Welcome me and let Silent Harp make music and bring my apparel of Rainbow and Star show me my shoes of Light and my Pants of the Universe Spread forth my meal of myriad lives, My Soul, and Show up thy Face of Welcome For I am the one who has dwelled in the secret Temple before, and I have been man too long And now I want to Hear Music of Joy beyond Death, and now I am be who has waited to Welcome myself back Home The great stranger is Home in his House of Joy." |
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