# Poesi - I have a special plan -T. Ligotti Author: [Borttaget] **![Oskyldig](../tiny3/plugins/emotions/img/smiley-innocent.gif "Oskyldig")Ett litet stycke poesi jag gärna delar med mig av... ![Oskyldig](../tiny3/plugins/emotions/img/smiley-innocent.gif "Oskyldig")** _when everyone you have ever loved is finally gone when everything you have ever wanted is finally done with when all of your nightmares are for a time obscured as by a shining brainless beacon or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world when you are calm and joyful and finally entirely alone then in a great new darkness you will finally execute your special plan_ _one needs to have a plan someone said who was turned away into the shadows and who i had believed was sleeping or dead imagine he said all the flesh that is eaten the teeth tearing into it the tongue tasting its savor and the hunger for that taste now take away that flesh he said take away the teeth and the tongue the taste and the hunger take away everything as it is that was my plan my own special plan for this world i listened to these words and yet i did not wonder if this creature whom i had thought sleeping or dead would ever approach his vision even in his deepest dreams or his most lasting death because i had heard of such plans such visions and i knew they did not see far enough but what was demanded in a way of a plan needed to go beyond tongue and teeth and hunger and flesh beyond the bones and the very dust of bones and the wind that would come to blow the dust away and so i began to envision a darkness that was long before the dark of night and a strangely shining light that owed nothing to the light of day_ _that day may seem like other days once more we feel the tiny legged trepidations once more we are mangled by a great grinding fear but that day willhave no others after no more worlds like this will follow because i have a plan a very special plan no more worlds like this no more days like that there are but four ways to die a sardonic spirit might have said to me there is dying that occurs relatively suddenly there is dying that occurs relatively gradually there is dying that occurs relatively painlessly there is the death that is full of_ _pain_ _thus by various means they are combined the sudden and the gradual the painless and the painful to yield but four ways to die and there are no others even after the voice stopped speaking I listened for it to speak again after hours and day and years have passed I listened for some further words yet all I heard were the faintest echoes reminding me there are no others there are no others was it then that I began to conceive for this world a special plan?_ _there are no means for escaping this world it penetrates even into your sleep and is his substance you are caught in your own dreaming where there is no space and a hell forever where there is no time you cant do nothing you aren't told to do there is no hope for escape from this dream that was never yours the very words you speak are only its very words and you talk like a traitor under its incessant torture there are many who have designs upon this world and dream of wild and vast reformations i have heard them talking in their sleep of elegant mutations and cunning annihilations i have heard them whispering in the corners of crooked houses and in the alleys and narrow back streets of this crooked creaking universe which they with their new designs were made straight and sound but each of these new and ill conceived designs is deranged in its heart for they see this world as if it were alone and original and not as only one of count with others whose nightmares all precede like a hideous garden grown from a single seed i have heard these dreamers talking in their sleep and i stand waiting for them as at the top of a darkened_ _flight_ _of stairs they know nothing of me and none of the secrets of my special plan while i know every crooked creaking step of theirs it was the voice of someone who was waiting in the shadows who was looking at the moon and waiting for me to turn the corner and enter a narrow street and stand with him in the dull glaze of moonlight then he said to me he whispered that my plan was misconceived that my special plan for this world was a terrible mistake because, he said, there is nothing to do and there is no where to go there is nothing to be and there is no one to know your plan is a mistake,he repeated this world is a mistake, i replied the_ _children_ _always followed him when they saw him hopping by a funny walk a funny man a funny funny funny man he made them laugh sometimes he made them laugh oh yes he did he did he did he did he did oh how he made them roll one day he took them to a place he knew a special place and told them things about this world this funny funny funny world which made them laugh sometimes he made them laugh oh yes he did he did he did he did he did oh how he made them roll then the funny man who made them laugh sometimes he did revealed to them his special plan his very special funny plan knowing they would understand and maybe laugh sometimes he made them laugh oh yes he did he did he did he did he did their eyes grew wide beneath there lids and how he made them roll i first learned the facts from a lunatic in a dark and quiet room that smelled of stale time and space there are no people nothing at all like that the human phenomenon is but the sum of densely coiled layers of illusion each of which winds itself upon the supreme insanity but there are persons of any kind when all that can be is mindless mirrors laughing and screaming as they parade about in an endless dream but when i asked the lunatic what it was it swore itself within these mirrors as they marched endlessly in stale time and space he only looked and smiled then he laughed and screamed and in his black and empty eyes i saw for a moment as in a mirror a form the shade of divinity in_ _flight_ _from its stale infinity oftime and space and the worst of all of this world dreams my special plan for the laughter and the screams we went to see some little show that was staged in an old shed past the edge of town and in its beginnings all seemed well the miniature curtain stage glowed in the darkness while those dolls bounced along on their strings before our eyes and in its beginnings all seemed well but then there came a suttle turning point which some have noticed and i was one who quietly left the show no i did not because i could see where things were going as the antics of those dolls grew strange and the fragile strings grew taut with their tiny pullings ,tiny limbs the others around me became appalled and turned away and abandoned the show that was staged in an old shed past the edge of town but i wanted to witness what could never be i wanted to see what could not be seen but the moment of consummate disaster my puppets turned to face the puppet master it was twilight and i stood in a grayish haze of the vast empty building when the silence was enriched by a reverberant voice all the things of this world it said are of but one essence for which there are no words this is the greater part which has no beginning or end and the one essence of this world for which there can be no words is that all the things of this world this is the lesser part which had a beginning and shall have an end and for which words were conceived solely to speak of the tiny broken beings of this world it said the beginnings and endings of this world it said for which words were conceived solely to speak of now remove these words and what remains it asks me as i stood in the twilight of that vast empty building but i did not answer the question echoed over and over but i remained silent until the echoes died and as twilight passed into the evening i felt my special plan for which there are no words moving towards a greater darkness there are some who have no voices or none that will ever speak because of the things they know about this world and the things they feel about this world because the thoughts that fill a_ _brain_ _that is a damaged brain because the_ _pain_ _that fills a body that is a damaged body exists in other worlds countless other worlds each of which stands alone in an infinite empty blackness for which no words are being conceived and whereno voices are able to speak when a_ _brain_ _is filled only with damaged thoughts when a damaged body is filled only with pain and stands alone in a world surrounded by infinite empty blackness and exists in a world for which there is no special plan when everyone you have ever loved is finally gone when everything you have ever wanted is finally done with when all of your nightmares are for a time obscured as by a shining brainless beacon or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world when you are calm and joyful and finally entirely alone then in a great new darkness you will finally execute your special plan_ ** _Thomas Ligotti - I have a special plan_** ## Comment 1 Author: [Borttaget] Just detta poetiska stycke har betytt en del för mig och det säger mycket. Ja det är hemskt och det är i grunden rysligt, men det ligger en hel del i orden att hämta för många. Det är ett tungt stycke att läsa och jag hoppas att de flesta orkar traggla sig genom det. Medan jag lägger mig till vila denna morgon ligger mina tankar hos mina kära och nära. Mina barn - mina tre söner... Syster, Sanna med barn, De hemma i vår lägenhet, Lorelai, Min vän J, Systers J... Min vilja är... Ro till dem alla, drömmar... tankar och hopp. //En något sentimental C.G. ## Comment 2 Author: Lorelai Oj vad lång.. läser de andra åttio stycken nästa gång jag dricker kaffe. :P ## Comment 3 Author: [Borttaget] Planan avslöjas säkerligenn där ;) ## Comment 4 Author: [Borttaget] [http://www.imeem.com/people/wZ\_jzO/music/sXd\_mbkw/current\_93\_i\_have\_a\_special\_plan\_for\_this/](http://www.imeem.com/people/wZ_jzO/music/sXd_mbkw/current_93_i_have_a_special_plan_for_this/) Där läser Davis Tibet upp den om man vill lyssna istället. Eller varför välja, man kan läsa \_och\_ lyssna... ## Comment 5 Author: Zoraye Wow! Fascinerande. Detta tarvar dock att läsas - och lyssnas på - ett par gånger till innan jag kan drista mig att säga att jag förstår. ## Comment 6 Author: Coturnix [![varande](http://coturnix.medlemmar.ifokus.se/ShowUserFile.aspx?BinaryId=8272a22d-4f50-455e-82b9-16dde59a4ca2)](http://coturnix.medlemmar.ifokus.se/ShowUserFile.aspx?BinaryId=8272a22d-4f50-455e-82b9-16dde59a4ca2) Känner väl till. Överröstas oövervinnerligen av en motsatt "röst". Min strävan. _//min reflektion//_ ## Comment 7 Author: SEViking Ja du a-e, det var verkligen ett litet stycke. SEV ![Förvånad](../tiny3/plugins/emotions/img/smiley-surprised.gif "Förvånad") ## Comment 8 Author: Coturnix Nej det var det ju inte. Jag läste och lyssnade iaf. Och det påminde mig om saker, och väckte tankar om tillstånd. För mig var det tankar om att bli berövad förmågor. Tinnitus, sin röst, att kunna förmedla, att bli ockuperad... Konst är konst. Poesi, att förmedla, uttrycka. ## Comment 9 Author: varulven #5 är nog inne på samma som dig ;) behöver läsa/lyssna igenom ett par ggr till tror jag. eller låta det sjunka in... ett par år (?) ;) ## Comment 10 Author: Anco Ett starkt stycke.... mycket att reflektera över... #8 Kram ## Comment 11 Author: [Borttaget] Ja... Den säger mycket... ... om att se på... Den visar en del... ... av frustrationen och sorgen...