Image: ChatGPT but with a little human intervention
skin once third room swallows blink kindling secrets starless conjures dragon demons
The Third Room
“Try to learn to love what is simply there, without explanation.”
-- Rainer Maria Rilke
The first is public, open, visible.
The second is private, even to you.
The third? Well, that is a mystery.
Usually entered by accident,
Usually left with relief.
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That third room is dim, indistinct.
Not gloomy but dark nonetheless,
Like a starless night, without form.
Secrets live here—
Things forgotten, swallowed, stored.
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Demons and dragons reside here
Beside angels, imps and unicorns.
They are conjured, not summoned,
By occasional flashed glimpses,
Seen and unseen in the blink of an eye.
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The glimpses, caught in the moment,
Go far more than skin deep,
Touching long buried nerves,
Rekindling fires of the past,
Which flare brightly then fade again.
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It is a room you visit accidentally,
Incidentally, not led astray but blindly.
It is unfurnished but heavily populated—
Like a video store of the mind:
Row upon row of old memories.
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The visits are always unexpected,
Like a walk in a house of mirrors,
Totally beyond your control—
In a blink you have entered,
Another blink—and you are gone.
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Quite stunning in its expanse. This is written as though from the third room itself. If it could describe its life, it would say this. Absolutely brilliant. Too many lines to recount. I love the flashes of it, the darkness, the lining up of memories, the obscurity of it, the old flames that die when we look away, the unexpected, the emptiness of it yet the highly populated, the formlessness, the way one is dropped into it then it/we have gone. Just stunning. Thank you for this.
ReplyDeletel love the magic and mystery of this! You convince me that the third room is at the heart of some very deep enigma – and that it must be discoverable, bit by bit, if one can only find the key.
ReplyDeleteNot as off-topic as it first appears. The demon and dragon thoughts popping out of the dark of memory might blare and bang like fireworks. (Or pour down like rain, or ooze up like a leak in a basement...but some would flash up like fireworks!) A very pretty conceit!
ReplyDeleteYour words evoke mystery. The third room is perhaps the place where the ego melts like a raindrop into an ocean vast beyond understanding.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautifully written poem - you really expanded the third room in my imagination - a good place to visit perhaps but not to linger - jae
ReplyDeleteThis is an amazing poem!!! Perfect way to launch 2026!!!
ReplyDeleteReally nice...Have a great year ahead!
ReplyDeleteBrilliant poem, J! It is both magical and mysterious.
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