preconceived neurotic notions of existence
of where we are, what we’re meant to be
where we need to go, how we have to live
identity wrapped up in prepared paradigms
stories told as truth, lived with theatrical flare
“this is me,” “who I am,” “can’t change now”

but change is the only constant

existence is fluid, fluctuating like unwritten fables
oral stories that play the titillating telephone game
words twist, just like plots, memories, and names
the minute we settle into perceived reality, it goes
the only recognizable truth is truth we don’t want to hear

the only constant is change

the solar plexus “I am,” that chakra of personal power
the one that we roar from with fire, the uncertain certainty
attaching to a “me” we design, craft, nurture incessantly
put on that face for the crowd, that alter ego of show
dare to define the undefinable, superego will be known

change is the only

shifting paradigms, letting go of frame, the structure
we cling to, the ideas we ruthlessly maim in good faith
to our virtues, our assured plans and our best of intentions
all illusion of stability built on quicksand of universal truths
we ignore, so we can live instead with faith in the smile of fake

only change

manipura, luring “lustrous gem,” third chakra of many
keep in check, question it, remind it where it sits
in the center, balanced out, only functions in concert
with reality checks there to maintain that restless truth
the one we must but can’t grasp on to and love to hate…



“Paradigms” ~ AUDIO voice recording on Soundcloud

~ by Emily Clapper



7 thoughts on “Paradigms

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