The turn to poetry need not be a turn to the less disciplined as opposed to the rigorous, to the figurative as opposed to the technical, precise or literal, to one truth as opposed to another. This opposition, while a powerful tool for both spheres–but even keeping them separate, contained away from one another is…More
Tag Archives: contemplation
Senselessational Beings
“In the beginning was the nonsense….“ Nietzsche, HAH You see those beings there, Up on the peak which still seems profound, Acting all kinds of foolishly? You hear them pounding the ground With gourds and skins, Singing only insensible things? You feel their touch Caressing the space between spaces, Barely never touching? You taste their…More
How, and from where, we look
How, and from where, we look. From above, at three thousand feet above the town, soaring through the clouds and piercing them with the nose of the great machine we are riding, the world looks wondrous, all the way up to ten thousand feet. But it’s the clouds that look most wondrous, in their expanse…More
When it comes down to it
When it comes down to it: you have to keep doing what you’re doing, even in the face of the obstacles set up by your importunity and stupidity. We might ourselves be our greatest enemies and our most insurmountable difficulties, but even this, however true it turns out to be, gives us no excuse. It…More
Deathinitions
Alive, that means to stretch and have something to stretch. Alive, that means to give the potluck your secret recipe. Alive, that means a combination of steam and fantasy, like clouds. Alive, that means to etch out space out of nothing but space. Alive, that means a dream of the dead, a vast moving showing…More
New Year’s Blessing, or, To Be Reborn
Our transformations can happen any year, on any day, at any moment. But a new year is when we are all forced, somehow, to reckon with the possibility of transformation, of being transformed ourselves and of the world being transformed, if not forced to actually transform ourselves. What is a year for us? Even before…More
…this small sticky thing…
There is no solutionTo a thing like being covered in tarry despairSearching for respite in sticky flowersMelting further into your hand than into the soil.The planet feels it, and surely other planetsFeel it too, the wobbled curveOf adventuring into nowhere with no ideaWhere the other side begins, what it meansTo glimpse at a total life…More
Before we had these things….
What was it likeBefore we had these things?Did we look one anotherIn the face more often,Did we tire of looking into Those searching and foreign eyes?What was it likeWhen we knew the feelingOf the ground beneath our toes,Or of questions askedWithout answers to them in our handsLike cold worms?Maybe it was a dreamBefore, when we…More
Love the Dust 