Status: It’s Complicated

Baby, i’m not complicated.
i’m the intricate art
of layers
of chaos
collected from our complex world
as i embrace it
with open arms
naked body
curious soul
letting it consume me,
and through it,
becoming.

i’m not the complicated that you mean, the abstruse
It might just be your baffling you project, darling.
i am the elaborate beauty that has taken time to build
with meticulous interaction with the world
the esoteric mess of inclusiveness
of perspectives
a center to multiple viewpoints
that shines like sunshine.

i’m not complicated, love
i am work
in progress
reorganising the world
into inviting categories of meaning
by being embedded in it.

or maybe i am
complicated.
a bundle of paradoxes
of mistakes that consciously lead to wisdom.
if that’s what that word means, anyway.
i simply no longer
use that as a disclaimer
to my being.

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Jayati Doshi
15th Oct, 2016. 9.33 am EST.

Us. Within our rhythms.

We take our circumstances and beliefs, and find our choices within.
You, to the best of your ability, slightly enchanted by your needs of the moment.
Me, to the best of mine, finding my way amidst the sea of my wishes.
We, dancing our moves through this stage full of improvisers, occasionally swinging together.
Organising our circumstances into stories. 
Somehow, through it all, orchestrating the rhythm that tunes our shared circumstance. 

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Jayati Doshi
July 11, 2016. 4.14 pm

The piece about pieces

 

I spend my days collecting pieces
to make up my world
and trying to piece them together

Meticulously,
with childlike curiosity
for meaning-making

I try and try,
finding the fit,
as closely as I can

And then I draw over them
intricate patterns,
with my schemas

There are some patches
Where the meaning is coming off;
But I draw on naked land, anyway

Pretty, shabby, beautiful, messy
incoherent, abstract, connected, meaningful
my little world of mismatched pieces

Some days it falls apart
the pieces I put together
my process, too much,

Today I felt you come around,
your hands too real, too coarse for my jigsaw,
but a semblance, a delusion of my world being held

while I start it piece it back again.

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The making of the globe

Jayati Doshi
4th March, 2016. 8.02 pm