Outer Valence
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- 1
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I got it in and adjusted the rabbit ears
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snow men in a staticky flow
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pieces missing pixels dancing
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a part of the ancient show
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where nebulous gods play kill by numbers
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no longer knowing what's above or below
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- 2
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at a death a tree will drop a leaf
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unseen in a forest deep
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the photo-negative celebrity show
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the entire wired universe will know
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vibration organically on a silver string
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fire burns, water flows, earth stoic moves slow
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while air comes as breeze
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or as tornado
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3
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a host of voices scream in the distance
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to tell we've lost our way
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maybe original sin
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or maybe yesterday
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- 4
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one
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candela
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in my cavernous chest
still shows, some times when allowed to flow
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I see the orange ember glow outward
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again willfully bound
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not to what's found
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instead to what I'll bestow
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and for every sad hour, every sad second I throw
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words on a page hoping someone will know
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that this path is littered with footprints
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and they are not alone
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in every ecstacy,
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multitudes
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hold hands with me
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a drop of rain in Jungian sea
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a destiny of plurality
Comments
Ron
A complex thought patterned to seep into an awareness.
There needs to be an end to this piece casting a tear into a Jungian sea is not a finality it is a start of a new way????
Made me work a bit at this one, philosophy of a reason to be, Yours Ian.T
Thanks Ian!
I did give that a lot of thought and my final conclusion is that the pattern is circular. The intent of the poem is to concentrate on the connections (sea, hand holding, connections, leaf falling known to universe, the entry as a small part of the Jungian sea, which if I'm getting you right, would happen at my death). The beginning line and the ending line allude to being existentially alone, especially the end: The destiny of plurality or the inherent way that my identity will not be entirely identical to anything once I'm out of the womb. It's what I meant, do you think it just ends too abruptly or is it the concept itself you disagree with?
Ron
Ron
Your writing covers not only the surface of the Jungian sea but the depth to which it goes.
I feel that to go in circles of life is a choice, shall I return and seek more knowledge or is it all stored in the eternity, this part of our journey is to experience the Physical things in life as a material being, sometimes you may have to return to learn of something else.
To miss a part of learning here on this visit is up to our own minds to sort out.
There is then the argument of the village Idiot even being here from that Spirit realm could he/she ever learn anything of use to the Spirit they are.
I will leave that to your imagination as the Idiot may be laughing at us because we don't understand a simple way and humility.
To drop into your Jungian sea as a tear, or raindrop, or as a Spirit being returning to the eternity, there you are an entity as a drop of energy becoming part of the whole again yet an individual for all time,
Yours Ian.T
If I have a choice, not sure whether I'd come back but......
I don't see it as a choice to enter the collective consciousness (sea) of Jung. The return is another thing altogether. Be it chaos or some higher power, I have no choice in it's decision except for my actions when I'm alive.
Ron
Remain
with what you've got. This appeals. Imagery magically thrown out of the baby's pram in such a fashion works.
LG
Thanks Lenny
V3
You think I say God's name in vain
but I don't even know the name
and even if I did, what's it to ya
there's a blaze of light behind the words,
it doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah.- Leonard Cohen
I don't know if you are alluding to my being an innocent or just a baby by the pram statement, but either way, it's cool by me. I've worked a lifetime to get this far. hehe.
Ron
Praise....
be for the Leonard Cohen inclusion - my heart melted dude!!!
Ron - it was a compliment! Reading it back, I know it sounds strange - but, I was in a strange place! I really like this piece!
Sorry for any confusion!
Lenny
A gift for you Ron:-)
"Death" is nonsense: what is there to die?
"Life"? How could " life" "die"? That is a contradiction
in terms. Can "light" become "darkness"?
"Light" can only cease to be apparent
Wei Wu Wei
Lenny Cohen, Thanks! I believe it wholeheartedly.
V1
Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
I'm not religious in the least but this song brought tears to my eyes the first time I heard it and still maintains the same power today.
Re: the poem, it's perhaps the highest compliment that you could give to say it took you somewhere. That answers the question is this mish-mash of a spirituality that possesses me can be expressed in image and if I could be the one to do it. Thanks, Lenny, I am humbled.
Ron
Thanks Lonnie!
Then with this piece, at least with you, I was completely successful in a write. Thanks very much! I'm glad the little simple rhymes held the bigger thing. I'm glad the interstices allowed enough light to get through. Now I'm free to write the sick stuff again...hehe
Ron
Hallelujah! A poet who
Hallelujah! A poet who rhymes with modern day themes and nothing contrived to keep with the schemes.
Seriously, I love where your mind and heart takes me with your poetry.
~A
Thanks Anna!
I appreciate your comment greatly! I'm definitely a modern poetic sensibility rather than an anachronism to an earlier time (though the French symbolists get pretty damn close). For years I was free verse only, then I went through the mish mash of my "Ginsberg" phase where everything was just a Pollack painting with no structure at all. Then I hit my unrhyming tercet a la Plath and Sexton phase, which taught me economy. One day I decided to try strict form as a means of a way of gaining precision in my work in general. I still keep them modern, like here is a Rondeau I posted weeks back.
4/4 by RW
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Thump of bass boom, strumming thong string
growling earth shift, tectonic sing
moving pants legs, beating on chest
blood syncopation rise and crest
wet heart beats meet each pluck and ring
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The BANG continues, living thing
the crowd bows to an aural king
sweat drops traverse a heaving breast
Thump of bass boom
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The pulse of thrum meets tendon's ping
a large, dark bird unfurls wing
the dance floor has become its nest
the moistened crowd is swallowed blessed
all eyes wondering what will bring
Thump of bass boom
I'm glad Outer Valence took you places (hopefully great places)and I thank you so much for the amazing complement.
Ron