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Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

 

I am singing  poetry of many voices/ Wilders , ” Our Town”/ ee cumming’s pretty how town/  Angelou and my very own coney island of the mind.

How is it that Language can be spoken here? Where it has been broken.

Did you hear me?   The sign on the door says, ” Language Broken Here”

Imperialism of the mind/ Colonization of the body

Tounges split

and twice removed

stand close to the

cellar door

and listen to the sounds of gurgles

AAAAAAAA

WWhhh WWhhhhhhhhhhh

Breathing

Breathing

Breath

Oh Breath Maker !

come life !

become votive candles

flickering in reflection

calling out.

See.

I stand here  stripped bare

singing poetry

before

you.

——————————————– dc 2011

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Finn Family Moomintroll

Image via Wikipedia

I have been busy writing a lot of poetry lately..

have some.

better yet-

write your own.  😀

d

——————————————————————————–

Euphoric from last nights

drugs

My  brother rummages the dumpster & finds a

a moomintroll  delicacy

Sargent pepper’s star-gazer

whose  face

shines

Happy

ascension

to heaven

or

Icarus

before he fell.

Thick  Steak/

Ice Cream/ Baskin Robbins/ Rocky Road

Looking up at him

I see rotting food

not strawberries .. not rice crispies

just this mornings hungry  promise

going  pop pop pop

like the breaking of

egg

shells.

 

dc 2011

 

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I was just re-reading my  post on “Re-invention”  and was pondering the phrase , ” bringing oneself  back into existence. ”  Another look at Re-invention would read like this:

            Re-invention: Bringing Oneself Back Into Existence

  As  an Artist I could paint themes that are related to my experience , however, at the  moment, I  don’ t have a need or desire   paint  to paint dark themes.

This has less to do with the visual communication than it does with

 verbal communication.

 It has so much to do with The  Forced  Silences.

The Forced Silences , to me,  feel like a Dissapearence.

To be Dissapeared.

Is to be  Blindfolded

To be kept downstairs in the Basement.

To be Tied up

To be  Taken for long periods of time.

To have ones Mouth  Taped

it also  means finding a  ” language ” in which  to communicate  the unspeakable.   To find the means to convey this on my own terms  and as  an Artist .

To  put myself on the Map.

      that says , ” I am witness to this” .

A LITANY FOR SURVIVAL

For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours:

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive

Audre Lorde, The Black Unicorn

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You say I am repeating
Something I have said before. I shall say it again.
Shall I say it again?

 

T.S  Elliot  ” The Four Quartets”

 

 

           I always seemed to be able to lock onto   memories of  emotion on others faces and  I don’t why  the feelings of others  is what I locked onto to or why at the moments of my own suffering I was focusing on the suffering of others. It’s a very  deep thing and is profoundly difficult to put into words.

yet I believe that the ability to lock onto a face that shows emotion is a way of  keeping humanity alive within ones self.  It’s about keeping the flame alive and the lights on.

 

shall I write  this  again?

I will write this again.

again. again. again and again.

In the darkest of places, in your darkest times  

If you want to hang on to your humanity-

( stay human)

  keep the flame alive

the  lights on.

enter

Repeat.

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nature

Image by Per Ola Wiberg ~ Powi via Flickr

As I write Nashville is getting ready for a dusting of snow-  at least it will be a dusting… Zoey my Star Fleet Academy Kitty is quietly sitting next to my left  leg and Max -cat is munching on an evening snack.   Some of the themes that interest me is that of Resilience. On this idea   I ordered a book of poetry of American poet  June Jordan and found the one poem that I’d been searching for, ” Poem for South African Women”.

Poem for South African Women

Our own shadows disappear as the feet of thousands
by the tens of thousands pound the fallow land
into new dust that
rising like a marvelous pollen will be
fertile
even as the first woman whispering
imagination to the trees around her made
for righteous fruit
from such deliberate defense of life
as no other still
will claim inferior to any other safety
in the world
The whispers too they
intimate to the inmost ear of every spirit
now aroused they
carousing in ferocious affirmation
of all peaceable and loving amplitude
sound a certainly unbounded heat
from a baptismal smoke where yes
there will be fire
And the babies cease alarm as mothers
raising arms
and heart high as the stars so far unseen
nevertheless hurl into the universe
a moving force
irreversible as light years
traveling to the open eye
And who will join this standing up
and the ones who stood without sweet company
will sing and sing
back into the mountains and
if necessary
even under the sea:
we are the ones we have been waiting for.

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