Song of Myself 1.0
I’ve been doing this a long time
Why is it so vexing
It should be a spontaneous flow of
Emotions recollected in tranquility
Write? It should be easy why is it not
Something is holding me back
Perhaps I am balking at allowing
Another method of science to explore
Territory deeper in psychological realms
Of the cerebellum wherever that extends
To including the far reaches of the psyche
That exist as a sphere balancing
On a unicycle with a punctured wheel
Once restored though a formidable
Configuration, sign, symbol whatnot
They have lost their heraldic power
You realize it now for what it appears:
Spiraling counterclockwise
As a mandala smashing into metal
Siding with a pinging ding
Painful revelation of past
Confrontations with the sphinx
In your grill in modern Greek drama
Our last bulkhead: the secret we have been
Dying to reveal some thirty years now
That was hollered across every
Functional culture countertop workstation
Necessary architecture in building
Philosophy in general to support the auspices
At least of civilization at its cardinal peak
Its feats embedded in concrete
A monolith that over shadows Foshay Tower
The image of Shapiro: the Dali of critics appears
‘Stranglehold’ instrumental version evolves
Howls transcending the medium of slinky
Hot rails steels: AC/DC soundtracks cackle like the
Cockerel you have accompanied to appeal
In the litigious back story decoded lugubriously
That sounds bbbetter than the Beatles
Becoming accustomed to the fact
That you are more or less
Representative of the new subjectivism
Final project
14 years ago
Hi, Jessie here, was in your group last time. Here's my take on your poem, which maybe I misunderstood, because I probably put my own spin on it.
ReplyDeleteI thought it was pointing out that there are magical and interesting ways of capturing the "truth": mandalas, scientific methods, Greek symbols like the spinx, music of AC/DC and the beatles, &etc. But even with all these things to draw from and piece together, how does the writer tell his inner most secret? None of these work for the author, I think.
When I was working on my piece this week, I was thinking, God, this secret burns right through me, but maybe it doesn't even matter to other people, maybe I am totally a textbook case of what happens when *any* person is in that situation, and everyone else innately knows. UGH, what is the point??? Maybe it isn't special at all.
Probably not what you were saying at all, ha. But your piece definately is about the trouble of trying to write at this specific time, and all the history and layers that surround us, with our access to history.