poniedziałek, 21 lipca 2014

Down Forward

“Confined on the ship, from which there is no escape, the madman is delivered to the river with its thousand arms, the sea with its thousand roads, to that great uncertainty external to everything. He is a prisoner in the midst of what is the freest, the openest of routes: bound fast at the infinite crossroads. He is the Passenger par excellence: that is, the prisoner of the passage. And the land he will come to is unknown—as is, once he disembarks, the land from which he comes. He has his truth and his homeland only in that fruitless expanse between two countries that cannot belong to him.” 
Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason

The son of Titans


Brushes the waves

Where embrace tightens


Daedalus and Icarus

One linked two lands

The other the sun

And the sea waves


Oblivious air-plane

Carries the fate

of freedom unchosen

Why, how not plain

Sea, land fossiliferous

Am I the passenger?

Observed by Little Prince?

Followed by scavengers

Bound to chase reason

Possession and romance?

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