(REVISITING, FRAGMENT, THE)
We can listen through the library portals for
Numbers not yet codified into soundings,
Delusions not yet become allusive,
A wash of stones reverberating;
Hear the echoes in the bindings in
Samos semen's regurgitations decipherments,
As the editors curled corn
Before they made dust into chipped volumes,
Reading whatever text you might find...
Listen to yourself speak.
We can sing the magic of the soul,
But will that bring Huwawa back to the cedars?
Lost to looking
Revisiting Çatalhöyük, when yet
The large fields and acres produced no grain
The flooded fields produced no fish
The watered gardens produced no honey and wine
The heavy clouds did not rain
On its plains where grew fine plants
'Lamentation reeds' now grow, we wait...
Them old places, replaced,
The chiasm of memory
Taking up the question beyond Lygos,
Refilling the tub when
The water leaks out of the basin, we find
Below interpretation, interpretation!
Out the arched windows, no cathedral,
Pawn to king's court in the garden,
Going out of the way for a little confusion:
She says, a mask for anger--
Reverting too soon to history and its psychoses
Those who do not revere perplexity
The strophe silenced, are collating dust and shade
Cranium, impenetrate, shadowy universe,
Integrity un-spellable, unaccounted for,
Neither completeable nor all that consistent, lux,
Our travels, immigrants, our alien race,
Too far away, indecipherable,
Retrieval, not recollection,
Waxed strings, voices in the corner, far from Saint-Imoges--
Aye, concatenations from Medieval architecture,
Dark hallways, retraced, without result
Waking up the dead, dead,
Right here, right now Ivan,
The interior fulgurations cancelling each other out,
While monks in scholar's clothing
Part one of part two of part three, obscured,
Not a member of its own set...
Gödel's number, taken up,
Pages turned on themselves,
Halls made for darkness, dust, quintessential--
Undressed, erotic, deferred,
I forgot to sigh, customarily,..
Nicked corners of cracked plywood...
Here, in the intimacy of palm-lines, foretelling
The aerial gods lost,
Ground rising to foundation, dust,
Broken star breaking dreams
Out of context, again,
Dust finding its own level
This place among the mouths, silenced:
Sea shells, broken among crab legs
Getting lost on our own
...
Flicker: on, out of sight, seeing
Shadows displaced by shadows,
Mimicking ups and downs.
Dust rubbing against dust
Making change from itself.
Finger tips run along the surface of the chalk drawing,
Enthralled in enigma --
We went the way.
Monday, April 22, 2013
For some reason these lyrics came to mind:
Young hearts be free tonight. time is on your side,
Don't let them put you down, don't let em push you around,
Don't let em ever change your point of view.
A good read, Pete.
Les
Thanks for stopping in, Les. It is always interesting to hear where the readers fo from a poem, into what part of the poem thee words allow one person or another to enter.
amo et avanti,
Peter