Her Cities

internal history
is written on
her cities
her roads
her sewers
her tunnels
it is to be read
on graven bones
and a thousand
etcetera of
personal adornment
sepulchers
unveiling
the inner arcana

Poetic bodies

My working material is what was once called the passions; or the humours and what they engendered, that is to say the phenomena that appear first in our body, coming from the innumerable turbulences of the soul.  In other words: what gives us suffering. Or what gives us joy.  And the two touch, they are always in exchange...we desire to be poetic bodies, capable of having a point of view on our own destiny; on...humanity.  On what makes humanity, its pains and joys. ... I am sure we are all thirsting after our virtuality of greatness.  And it is without limits...And we are deprived of it because we no longer even know how to let ourselves feel, how to allow ourselves to feel what we feel.  Nor how to accompany this feeling the the song that echoes it and restores it to us.  
                                                                                                                                                     ~Helene Cixous (Rootprints)

Gravity

     i will sink    
into what i am.
i will listen to the voices.
 the haunted children.
the doubts.
even while the faery-tale
i thought was certain future
 wilts and drops away.
even as i wonder
if i am the usurper
of my own life.
i will take one step
and then another
toward the unfurling of
this cocoon until
the piteous pleading
to be careful and be safe
and responsible
and pretty is
not even
an echo.
i will die to what
i think and be reborn
into what
i cannot fathom.

To Sing

when i sing
a gateway opens,
silent and strange

apart from the mayhem
the richochet
of thought

to sing

when the sound
is sodden with longing,
is a lighthouse
on the night sea

REAL POETRY

Real poetry practitioners are practitioners of mind awareness, or practitioners of reality, expressing their fascination with a phenomenal universe and trying to penetrate to the heart of it.  Poetics isn't mere picturesque dilettantism or egotistical expressionism for craven motives grasping for sensation and flattery.  Classical poetry is a process or experiment, a probe into the nature of reality and the nature of the mind.

Major works of 20th century art are consciousness–particular experiments with recollection or mindfulness, experiments with language and speech, experiments with forms.  Modern art is an attempt to define or recognize or experience perception––pure perception.

A few Buddhist dharma phrases correlate with the process of Bohemian art of the 20th century––notions like: Take a non-totalitarian attitude, Express yourself courageously, Be outrageous to yourself, Don't conform to your idea of what is expected but conform to your present spontaneous mind, your raw awareness.

                                                                                                                      ~Allen Ginsberg

lifespan

The metaphor finds me. 

i felt this morning as i walked, how simple it is. that i have found my home.  i do not have to compete.  i do not have to rush to gather skills.  i don’t have to worry about how many years...all that matters is a heart of curiosity and love. 

Photography Is...

...not an art form like language, it is a medium whereby works of art are delivered or framed.  It has the capacity to turn all of its subjects into works of art; a way to focus attention and know humanity.  The medium IS the message.                                                                                                 
                                                                                                                     (from Susan Sontag's On Photography)

the rIver sTyX

                             scent of water, rotting things
                                                                 the drag of silky strings
                                                                               I pull these bones and
                                                                                                          skin
                                                                                                                  against the draw.

what Impetus governs movement?  desire?  swimming through atmospheres, entertaining all the subtleties of subjective experience.  this body is a vessel that lies in wait beneath conventions and conceptual architectures.  it is a blueprint of divinity.  a map of buried freedoms.  

words are visceral, scaffolding of myth and poetry - connective tissue that conducts the destruction and creation of heaven and hell through the latticework of mind.

installation of "I" into the phenomenological orchestra.  i wish to move through, over and outside the fences of habit.  to unearth earth.  to place a magnifying glass over the absurd vignettes of unfolding experience....

HIRAETH

                       hiraeth

                                                                          An ineffable yearning (Welsh)

a dérive

In psychogeography, a dérive (French: [/de.ʁiv/], "drift") is an unplanned journey through a landscape, usually urban, on which the subtle aesthetic contours of the surrounding architecture and geography subconsciously direct the travellers, with the ultimate goal of encountering an entirely new and authentic experience. Situationist theorist Guy Debord defines the dérive asmode of experimental behavior linked to the conditions of urban society: a technique of rapid passage through varied ambiances."