“I should feel guilty”

Now I know why I used to say that, and what it hid.

Rue.

April 29, 2015 at 5:16 pm Leave a comment

about avoiding speech

shared silences

i wonder if you think
you’ve robbed me of my words.

you gave me something precious:
knowledge, and my only thanks

can be silent.
i used you as an augury.

i thought to have no choice.
the echo you may await can never come.

i have
you see

achieved, in that tiny matter
silence.

it is complete.

[Selah.]

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The relationship to the mentioned hexagram is via a rather different interpretation, incorporating 24.  This poem is about the writer committing an error by not attempting to act with ‘firm correctness’.  It is also a very dour picture of the future, but then this is merely a story. One hopes.

April 3, 2017 at 12:13 am Leave a comment

Two Studies

imaged reflections

delayed cascades
of shattered moments
eye-blurred                lens-caught
form fractal expressions
of beauty, made
by the shaping of near-molten metal,
there
are many forms of speech.

 

the image is of a smith at his (her) trade, hammering almost liquid metal

__________________________________________________________________

inflected experience*

the fragments of you i remember
i know are (half? mostly?)
certainly part self-perception

it is
like seeking true reflection
in the scattered bits
of a shattered mirror

but

frantically seeking that mirror’s repair
whether
symbol of my longlost soul
or your clear remembrance
(no matter the foreknown pain, i

struggle to recapture
that searing moment
that our meeting was

but as i struggle
to collect those fragments
somehow they cut free, and i bleed
once again
remembering you.

_____________________________________________________________________

These are both ‘studies’ in the sense that they are exercises of a kind–experiments might I suppose might be a better word–in styles and in one mixing of an experimental style I basically abandoned with my ‘normal’ style.  If there is a distinctive difference in much of my poetry and writing and general it probably results from the usage of more than one viewpoint or perspective.

*This in particular is a purely conceptual poem, the image created by a shattered mirror’s reflections (and the attempt to suggest that the apparent distortion may lend a kind of truth that may not be entirely specious). [There is also an echo of
‘sun on bright water
narcissus, shattered
by a pebble’
which was my landmark poem in that it represented a definitive step into my own style without any hint of apology.  Since I deliberately employed Grecian mythology in the poem to the extent that it is meaningless without its knowledge, it was a fairly brazen act.  I lived with and amongst Christian Reformed people–Calvinists, who abhorred idolatry.  But then my book report for the class for baptism was on Ship of Fools…  I couldn’t resist and no one called me on it.  In retrospect I still can’t believe it.  I’ll leave it to the reader to find out which particular book I mean, with the hint that popular literature was just beginning.

March 24, 2017 at 5:17 pm Leave a comment

samwise agonistes

on memory and other fruitless agonies
samwise agonistes

i see your trace
on my soul’s walls
like a baby’s footprint
set in concrete, lasting
and quite meaningless,
though
a lesson in time itself

you

just so
continue.
as i scrub with all my might
to remove that stain
you remain,
and your shadow fills my sight.

__________________________________________________
*‟agonistes‟ is “someone in the grip of inner conflict‟ and samwise the so-named self is certainly born of that (courtesy Chambers as portrayed by WordWeb Pro not cross-checked with ancient Lesser Oxford English because I’m old, lazy, arrogant and I did know it was a word though the meaning can be slightly more complex and/or complicated.

 

More precisely it is about the acquisition and cataloguing of values (or meanings, if there is a difference); thus it is in the realm of social psychology, indeed.

March 18, 2017 at 12:46 am Leave a comment

Of Truth and Images

“(…suddenly I realize, I am a ghost, myself)…”

Continue Reading March 15, 2017 at 7:14 pm Leave a comment

An Entry

I realized I really should make an entry today, so here it is;

 

“Remember, Death is Nature’s way of telling you to slow down.”

March 12, 2017 at 6:12 pm Leave a comment

on transfiction

On transfiction

paused within a moment’s
transfixed
transfixing, transficting* gaze

i am wordless, caught
by a pure concept
and

its crystalline, momentary
refractions, reflections

that leave no trace
trans formed** to fiction
indeed [how odd you call them facts!]

___________________________________________________________________

*transfiction; the transformation of reality into its representation, which is then taken as real (as in reality; it is of course real because it serves a function, is used and thus must obviously exist; questioning the amount of connection between a representation and the ‘real’ is quite a different matter–see Law and Justice).
** Not a typo, thankee kindly. And ‘thankee’ predates the Oxford Dictionary. I daresay out of usage.  It was used after the establishment of The Dictionary, mind you, as well.

_________________________________________________________________

This might also be taken to be an attempt at definition of an active process in human society.  Then again, it might not.

SD

Final note, this isn’t McLuhan’s ‘factoids’ construction, which is media-wise the same principle in basis.

 

 

March 2, 2017 at 9:22 pm Leave a comment

signs

signs

there were, quite certainly, signs that he was here:
although as certainly
we never glimpsed the promised heavenly lights and
ranks
of ethereal beings…

the story, though perhaps
not quite convincing,
was assuredly dramatic
enough,
with its angelic voices
and descended doves.

the presence, though long expected, never quite
appeared: the pleas
were to an ear if not unhearing, unanswering, the
soul’s
dark nights still unlit.

there is only a rubbish
heap there:  and
the unpleasant reminders
and
memories of the people slaughtered here.

names are only names,
no matter how spoken.
that Word he was remains
unknown:  and though
perhaps uttered, surely unheard.

_________________________________________________________

Yes, perhaps, for a long while I tried to represent a loss of faith as that. Mind you, that presumes there was a loss of faith, or knowledge, starting first with determinism or absolute predestination; the terms are either irrelevant or quintessential.

February 24, 2017 at 10:33 pm Leave a comment

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