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Resonance

I am the Everyman. The Lead in The Play.
The everything, the everyone and the unsung.
I am Saffron, Empirical Description.

“What boredom falls upon my eyes and ears, as hearing that for one more
chapter, I will have to describe my day to all of you, my loyal
readers.”

“It’s essential, I guess, to know who I am, or at least know what I
look like, what I’m doing, what I’m wearing or what I’m not wearing.”

“How should I start: “Once upon a time”?
Such is the usual rhetoric of a faerie tale.
But this isn’t that. This isn’t anything except my perceptions.”

What I see.
What I hear.
Is red so red?
To me it is.
and brown the same,
but different still.
Why grass is green.
Why in a dream?
What if that’s wrong?
And Blue.

Every good book always has a beginning. As if an event or a world
solely begins on page one. To try and contain worlds in any format
does an injustice.

To whom I don’t know.

Where do you interject what you already know?
If the question is why, where does when come in?
I could describe my scene: Black identical. Black identical.
Symmetrical.
The underlying universal truth is what with regards to writing, my
subconsciousness or my bag of chips?

If one could conceptualize a straight answer from either existence, how
would I say it?
Is there a language?
Until I find out, all I can tell you is what everybody already
understands

Brad Jadwin

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Memoirs of a Spider

glass webs
hang low
in the sky

my compass
breath weapon
fits snugly between

silently
avoiding

among the white
blankets
a thorn fire
heavy

disappearing
when we begin
empiricism

the day-to-day subjective
lingers
tramping
torn
foreign
page remnants
beneath my feet

still

layered
edited
stories

copied

a forced reflective
upon the still
hanging glass

erases thick
that
which I try so desperately
to remain true

Brad Jadwin 

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