Thursday, October 28, 2010

~~~Magpie 38~~~ Soul Walkers by EA Wilson~~~


The Soul Walkers by EA Wilson channelled by Jane Jones

Gone but not forgotten
E A Wilson
trying to piece together
the potsherd fragment
what was left behind
November 29, 1858
This broken soul marker
speaks not of self
but of the Soul Maker
as you Soul Walkers
EA Wilson
who could?
not you!
could ever hold back
how your blood once flowed
pure and innocent
through places unknown
we do know this
you lived!
and shall live again!
once
but for tonight
in this sleepy keeping room
we've kept these fragmented
those dog-earred photos
once
you knew these
who were you
these unknown
energies alive

as to most
you're just a faded memory
not to us magpie believers
unless the prophesy
or your progeny and friends
would say
knew more than they could say
your immortalized bones
now just a name
EA Wilson
now just a time
Nov 29, 1885
not much to tell but
you know more
its time
once
we dig
we shall dig
we will dig deeper
scrying faded newspapers
in the local lake
going over the records
for the records on microfiche
at the local all-night library?

cut out pieces
out of place in a time
E A Wilson
you come back
all came together
for this time
once
sliver of night
through the new
silver moon
to make you anew
whole in spirit form'd
from earthen vessel'd souls
once
more
before fade like a final curtain call
you were once
save for this night
almost completely lost to us

the Soul Walkers
need to speak
of that swift-flighted bird
landed alight to return
quiet now
quote the quail nevermore
save for this night
listen to the rustle of children feet
playing beneath the cemetery's trees
who are you
EA Wilson?
listen to us
speak to us
tell us what happened then
as for now we wait
in this place of your tomb
swaying and swinging
as willow's mentronome-like movement
recalls
Beethoven's 5th Symphony
save for the tumult and timbre of time
once
saved for posterity
these old bones
rattle
wanting to tell all
EA Wilson
you who by now
can see far past eternity
so so sad to say
we miss you today
please tell us
about infinity
we need to ask you this
once
back from the grave
to stay here
but briefly
please
we need to know
you need to tell us
your story
before all fades away
and long ago goes home
go home
EA Wilson
to the Soul Maker
you the Soul Walker
EA Wilson
we welcome you
The Soul Maker soon
to welcome you
with open arms
with Compassionate Love

Our brains have been given over
like a trance-filled shaman
this physical alchemy
our brain; our omigdula
fearfulness of fear no more
we'll stay
put on the backburner the shiver
with memory's emulsive burn;
the constant erosion of time
once
chattered
now
silenced;
wait
evolved this time
our surety

As you are now left
huddled under the altar
crying for Revelation
I am not dead!
the late wait to unravel
split your grave in two
the grave would not hold
could not hold
once
your innate fierceness
to hold onto life
queued to quickening
once
your Soul's Independence
the Country's storehouse
a warehouse full
of souls
to claim

the Spirit
who broke the mold
evoke the long dead
once
that which tried to hold you in...
now released
for this moment only
this Samhain's opening
awaken once more
animated to speak tales
of old
to us in this present

from all that is covered
shall hover for a time
this long gone buried past
reborn this night
from your earthen shroud
the cold cold grave?
what pray tell
once
E A Wilson
to speak with us
this Samhain
this Hallow'd eve night?
"Wait! Hence! To be revealed..."
says EA Wilson

jj

~~~~Poem A Day Emily Dickinson~~~"If she had been the Mistletoe" 44/1775



If she had been the Mistletoe ~ by Emily Dickinson

If she had been the Mistletoe
And I had been the Rose —
How gay upon your table
My velvet life to close —
Since I am of the Druid,
And she is of the dew —
I'll deck Tradition's buttonhole —
And send the Rose to you.

http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/If_she_had_been_the_Mistletoe

Dear Friends of Emily: This is a sweet poem! Emily is completely in the anthropomorphic mood today!

Miss Emily is comparing herself to a rose. I believe there have been many romantic poems who did like comparisons of roses and other natural devices of the literary kind, in particular; "shall I compare thee to a summer day" by William Shakespeare.

Miss Emily Dickinson, as a student of the classics would be well aware of this imaginary device and the power it can evoke in the imagination.

Miss Emily is referring herself to a "rose" and her significant "other she" as "Mistletoe" (note the capitalization of proper pronoun referencing an actual person; also known as personification. Now whom exactly is Miss Emily's "Mistletoe"?
Let me be persistent here, I believe this person is Sue Gilbert or Emily's sister, probably Sue Gilbert as other references to Sue Gilbert, Emily's best friend (BFF) have been made before this time.

Emily is suggesting, in this poem, that if Sue Gilbert were "the Mistletoe" and Emily is the Rose;

"I had been the Rose"

This poem perhaps references a story of the "Mistletoe and the Rose" of which I am not familiar; perhaps someone can tell me if they know of any such story. I am feeling it is a King Arthurian tale! Wait a minute! I'll ask my friends on King Arthurian legends to see if there is a tale similar to "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight" for this apocryphial reference! Maybe it is a glaring references which I have never had the pleasure to reference! Undoubtedly!

"Since I am of the Druid"

This is quite a bold statement to make, and considering the Victorian times with which Miss Emily survived periodically, this poem, if it had been released to general readership during "those days" would have been thought much more than presumptious!

Emily has studied the Druid background so she must understand the "witches" of such tales were often "burned at the stake" in early colonial days. Could this be a reason why Emily did not release her works so readily? Not quite ready for parlour usage? Only after her death were these "personal" diary-like poems released! So the plot thickens!

Emily is, beyond doubt, an inquisitve individual would probably, more than likely did not want another Spanish inquistion! Who would? Especially if Emily is beginning to delve into Metaphysica, and other esoteric belief systems such as the esoteric Transcendentalists.

"How gay upon your table
My velvet life to close —"

Self-sacrificial the above statement; definitely romantic of the Romeo and Juliet type sacrifice on the altar of love.

"and she is of the dew"

One cannot get much more sexual than the above statement. Emily is claiming her Mistletoe (a person) is "of the dew". The dew represents renewed spirit and also carnal desires. Since she knows that "Mistletoe" is "of the dew" giving reference and mood to the poem, creating great mystery and intrigue for those "days of yore" found in Druid mysticism. Dew has significant metaphysical properties and used, perhaps in Druid practice of spiritual alchemy.

"I'll deck Tradition's buttonhole —
And send the Rose to you."

These two ending lines of the last stanza are curious and curiouser! So Emily will wear or "deck" or "don" the Mistletoe and send "the Rose" to you. Here Emily is allowing the reader to partake in the ritual of the "Mistletoe and the Rose" as a third party. Emily, by giving herself to us, in the form of "the Rose" is creating a forth wall and extra dimension to her work. After-all we all know what mistletoe references around Christmas time, if one stands under the Mistletoe the person is automatically kissed! Was Emily hoping for this; to be kissed? Who wouldn't? Miss Emily is earthy and sensual here! By "deck" ing "Tradition's buttonhole" (notice the capital "T" in Tradition? Another elusion to personification of Tradition? To me, this sounds very sensual and coy! Miss Emily is "bucking" or "deck"ing "Tradition", that omni-potent "this is the way it is" type of powerful customary contemporary ritual. Is Emily comparing Druid ritual with Victorian ritual? Maybe and perhaps?

I'll keep the rose in my buttonhole and remember the life that inspired it Emily ~ so romantic Emily! And full of daring-do!

Chiccoreal's Contemplative Analytic Poem on "If she had been the Mistletoe"

"If She had been the Rose and the Mistletoe"

Emily's imagination works overtime
it is the time of "don our gay attire"
and all is a swirl of romantic imagery
full of personified plant life
full of perceptions opening up
and becoming something more than "Tradition"
or Traditional
Emily as the rose
in my buttonhole
of my cloche
will remind all of the beauty
of such a quickening life
so soon
"My velvet life to close"

Wear it Well; Wear it close
this Rose of Life
The Mistletoe will always be
Embellished my dear sweet Emily
with each fragrant passing sniff!

jj

Friday, October 22, 2010

~~~POEM-A-DAY~~~Emily Dickinson "Could live - did live -"


Could live - did live -

Could live — did live —
Could die — did die —
Could smile upon the whole
Through faith in one he met not,
To introduce his soul.

Could go from scene familiar
To an untraversed spot —
Could contemplate the journey
With unpuzzled heart —

Such trust had one among us,
Among us not today —
We who saw the launching
Never sailed the Bay!

by Emily Dickinson http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Could_live_%E2%80%94_did_live_%E2%80%94

Hello again dear friends of Miss Emily Dickinson! It has been awhile, I apologize for lack of lustre for being less than a shining and stellar example of adhesiveness to the Poem-A-Day functionary, however, excuses...excuses!

Excuses begone! Now we are in for a treat this week! I am finding this new poem (well new in a relative sense, new to me!) called "Could live - did live" similar in some ways to a poem I just wrote for Magpie#37 called "Double or Nothing", and this is just not a flagrant attempt at self-promotion either! (although it probably is...). Yes, Miss Emily and me seem to be caught in the same paradoxical literary technique aka "bug" called "life".

What I must wonder about, besides the paradoxical quandry of up/down, left/right, yes/no, you know, that whole yin-yang chestnut is the fact that Ms Emily is alluding to the Christ/Father/Husband/Finance/Boyfriend/aka Saviour of some sort in this work. Definitely I would immediately think this is all about a saving father figure, like Christ.

Through faith in one he met not,
To introduce his soul.

The reference to "faith" is paramount in this poem being quixotically compared and contrasted to Christ. Also referencing "his" and "he" places the oness on Christ.

Emily is, in her own unique manner of expression, and in a round-about way stating that Christ

"Could live - did live"

and

"Could die - did die"

"Could smile upon the whole"

Emily, I believe, is contemplating the idea that Christ lived and lives now within the Christian, yet she is questioning although he is alive now and "could go" and "could contemplate" the "familiar" or the "untraversed spot" and now (after Christ's death and resurrection) "Could contemplate the journey" his new life as the resurrected saviour "with unpuzzled heart" meaning that Christ no longer questions God the Father as to "Why have you abandoned me" since Christ and the world are now saved. However, Emily questions maybe why she still does not feel 100% saved even though Christ does feel his salvation. Maybe Emily is waiting in lieu for the end of the world to catch up with the redemption and ransom?

Such trust had one among us,
Among us not today —


Emily feels the "trust" of Christ in salvation for all is "among us not today". In other words, no one has true faith of salvation accept for the risen Christ.

We who saw the launching
Never sailed the Bay!

Emily's reference to the Amherst MA bay, or "far shore" again! So "we who saw the launching" is references all of us who know the Bible facts of Christ death and resurrection" but have as yet "never sailed the Bay" reference of Emily's idiom to death and rebirth in Christ only to happen after death and judgement.

A very Christian-themed poem today! Hope you enjoyed it!

Chiccoreal's Expostulates on "Could live - did live"

Would live - would live

Would die - would die

one day anyway
maybe
maybe not
sooner than later
the lated always
preferrable
open up the floodgates!
let the love flow through
get us all wet with dew
now is the time!
to fill up the potsherds
no use to wait til then
now is the time!
let it all in
why wait in lieu?
to taste that taste
bitter flavour
no favour giv'n
the taint of death
the original sin
singeing not singing
on putrified lips
Shout it out loud
Have faith in one's
convictions
Jean Val Jean
release the hounds!
Christ can be here today
held close to heart
Not away ~ leagues across the Bay!
and clear to Midland on a good day
Unless you want to visit
sooner than later?
I think not!

jj

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

~~~Magpie 37~~~Double or Nothing

double or nothing

eyes seye

dart trad

back kcab

forth htrof

to ot

you uoy

from morf

me em

who ohw

are era

you? ?uoy

I? ?I

jj

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

~~~Magpie#35~~~Still Photography


Still Photography

Breezes caught in the stagnant air
silver nitrate imprinted thought
tracers light night paths
lacross players send hoops past the vitriolic sky
extinguished the universal expanse in one fell swoop
while whelps barked uncermoniously at the moon
distant echoes muffled cries choked by chichi
seduction whispered could not recall
lady in a green dress silken satin fall away
passion
ran over by a bus
stood waiting
died waiting
passed away
no auditions, no callbacks today
not even one

As the Foregone conclusion
Requiem mass for the huddled masses
on the 33rd yard line
drunk on dreams they were too Far gone
into their grail cups they used to fry
quail eggs
meatless birds and empty promises begone!

Slammed the door on the way O-U-T!
SLAM~
THAT'S all you GOT?
shut IT out LOUD
bottom of the ninth
ully opened up
the tiny butterfly
squashed inbetween LAYERS
OF YESTERDAY'S NEWS doggone dog-earred pages
with no turnover the economy tanked
Doldrums flash frozen accounts
wall street held up by the clever
on account of the heavy water
like concrete for heavy leaded feet
more trick than treat

Unmoveable feast; moved by the beast of burden
that use to swing now swung idle
Eric Idle on drugs
curtain swags that once had swagger, once dapper
no drapes that drooped and dropped like flies
those crusty clowns; simpletons

as suddenly as
life turnaround
as suddenly
she so
precious
beautiful
uncorruptible
she dropped dead
gorgeous
dead ringer

larger than life
this once moved now removed
no nerve so fated to unnervate
sinews disconnected from the skin
now unabated
now unabridged
now unabashedly bashful
shy guy out of control
stop disfiguring the misinformation
no stopping the stop sign
says "Arret already!"
high five
sigh is all lovers could ever do
besides a little adobe hacienda

bones too brittle to bite the dust
the sting of distant memory sand storms
on naked mucuous membranes sensitive
always too sensitive
to be any good
for unkempt keepers kept diaries in keeping rooms
peter's pickled too
the many sling and arrows
the flesh is ere to
dangling like Shakespeare participle
too many diseases that rack up a price
at the tollhouse cookie house
lined up like catecombe bones
lined up in a row
damn cappuchin monkeys!

the strings had begin to unravel
the telemerase shoelaces were trippy
acid burned the akaloid hallowed holes
from the film strip
helium took hydrogen
away into the troposphere
lazurian battle ensued
opposites once attracted
united deep space nothingness
gradiose holes
yin and yang collapsed
spun-out of control
all energy comprised in the middle
of nowhere
under the sheer weight of
she's come undone
the beginnings just begun
the end is never in sight

no subjects found to collect the goods
or reject the capstone
leaving lintels covered in blood
blood red finally got the earthen
energy burnished in my brain
no conjunction
no common meeting ground
continually leaning post teetering
the other ball dropped
fell on my foot
standing up against the wall
caught in the headlights
deer crossing X
waiting for the stun to stop
waiting for the sun to stop stinging
burning
singing
a hole in my already holey retinas
whole and part
living and partially living
how can that not be?
light burns in images leaves
edges all smudgy
we've still got the right
to party
on this last stop
milky way dangling armature
unusuable her suitor
we dont even know if our arm
in the galaxy is right or left
or has a name
the Universal Suitor
did suit her after all
ask for her hand and got known
as the guy around town
as squid shaped galaxy
how many arms is that?
well the big bang didnt care
that we'd be monsters
neither that nor be here nor there
spiritual beings lived lives of mass extinction
use to call us Beatitudes
Tonal quality excellent
Key of G with a slathering of grunts
from channellers intent on healing
instead of Blue Pleidians
Light BEings of Reknown
simply
we're entralled with living
our temporaneous place
removed all files
from Sour faces
Our Source of renewable resources

Obviously it did not suit her!

As in the Beginning
The Alpha
Hooked up with
The Omega
Knowing each forces' struggle
the epic battle ensued
the life and death struggle
framed so beautifully
as once a relay race offset from the discouse
a lecture in posterior analytics
a residual effect of cause
always the protaganist
delayed overdevelopment thrust thus
into the limelight's eerie gauze
the fog caught thick pea soup
on a backwards cusp
moonlight's glowed on my satin sheets
now on flannel moon snuggled
full tilt version
not for the lilty ones
highty flighty
it would figure
talented trekkers
supplanted us
6 feet deep
all
the weak
the day
the sick
the week
the quick
the month
the dead
the year end
standing room only

empty womb spake mostly the unspoken words
in tongues fast-fried from heated skillets
sizzle and fizzle left-over puzzled looked
these words that sting and bind

vacant symbols the untrained brain long dead
broke ground reawakened
no longer merely a mortal the
abused master of ceremonies
unceremoniously dumped his grounds for
uncertain times
hoping to fertilize the field of dreams
hammer it home so often we said
we will survive
the homefires glow with marshmallows
not sure clouds are marshmallows
or cloud mushrooms

finding the flint in uncertain ceremony
striking the night's radiate air
scratching post
foundlings found once lost
lil kitty; hello Kitty!
returned to dust once sparks
temporarily out of order
the order of every day
close the door!

wasn't wally world
closed for the season
cut down in its prime
of things that were left
on the slide a downward ride
ever slide up?

devoured like prime beef
in a hall full of jocks
a ballroom dance for worshippers
not to hold sway
too close
better stay away
the Queen shouldn't please
dont get any closer and
sin comes from your gyrating hips
and wet lips
that only some could do that
the grind is too much like ground beef now!


dessicated chopped liver
exacted a pound of flesh
pound per pound of fresh fish
Sole on Ice
souls cry out
Remain in me
for the long lost meat
that hung like rancid butter
in the pantry a long time
now dreams ago
past expiration now rotten stinky
smelling like perspiration
all flesh corrupts
sometime got to know when
as too
all life collapse upon itself
a heap of putrifaction
no action then
except decomposition
once alive no just rotting away
again in Margaritavilla
why cant we just live and on
retire to our destiny
happy knowing how we hope
for the unseen there's faith
our convictions
convicted of what?
to love life?
to be happy
don't worry
it'll all come out in the warsh

removed from the banks
the sludge called
the anthema
this tome close
I am Mommy
yes, my tomb
this tome a closed casket
misquoted no more
placed in the grave
a graven image
beside myself my ego
formless now
as spirit long gone
fled the endless song
this banished banquet
from whom and to whence it came
banner unfurled thus
yet nearly a year banned as a best seller
paperback and
written on napkins
far out context
by its mere existence
a statue

as unfair policy holders
kept card dividers
keepers of circles
kept circling error
kept finding ways
to divide nothing from nothing
the dividend always adds up to two or
zero returns of the day

unfair trade policy makers
swaps spit with tree bark
oaks impart energies
old man can
grin and bear it
Grimm's Fairy Tales knew
the dim outlook
the grim reaper raked it in
should be smiling by now
that smile permanently afixed
wouldst it not be a permanent fixture?
a major production or a double feature?

Ay, these many strange stages of life
every actor plays his part to make
life stranger than fiction
contribution to the cause
did you cause this?

a commotion quelched
concurrent currency
money markets clash
put options
reflecting wall street
and the dead trees
left hanging
on the barren landscape
unfixable lousey dreams
will dram stoker
Vlad the impaler
pale ghost rider
and the dead dogs and ancient englishmen
with bad teeth
entrophy does not get a shiny award or trophy
a tisket a tasket once a life in a basket
now just rolled heads, a turkey roll of fools
kicked down endless halls
captured like imprinted coins
hammered inbetween
dare we break the die that made us die?
cast dispersions to the sky?
or do we then
do we just die
we wait
not panicky
not jump out of buildings
nor take the dramamine
we face our enemies
til we see the white of their eyes
we eat til we drop dead and o' gout
die then live another day?
and yet when and if we do die
and become this rare extinction
since all matter seems to never die
we do so thankful and all is so very thankful
that we thank the thanker as thank-you's grow
and I love you stays the same no matter how
often it is said it is always between too
where thank-you maybe only one sided
unless love is too and I was just enough
deluded into believeing that love was something
other than a figment of imagination
it was more real than anything here
that maybe more than the physical
although certainly felt in the natural
we feel love
we be love
we are love
and love is the only infinity
all esle is rotting in the aisles
so what then is for eating and what should it be
does it matter if I had that extra calorie
I'm just dying for that extra once of chutzpah?
and die we do
where's the gong to enter through?

so eat well, clean the plate for tomorrow we die?
what if it is the next day after tomorrow
will we still eat full well knowing our death is
2 days away? and the worms ache to send more food
"down here". Arent we already in a kind of hell?
With worms and all, isnt that funny!

now that we've saved from ever taint
make room for the grand finale
a crash course in clash of the cymbals
symbolizing (homonym lover)nothing
Isn't that fitting!
I think I'll order another fitting
and let out the top button of my pants
we're quite finished here
we're quite done like dinner
I'm stuffed already
like bird with gravy!

even then
evergreen
evergrown
evenflow
the stop-frame gag up here
gap the gang way of wrong way
fell the trees and stop all this barking
about regulations when so irregular anyways
this utter chaos in disorder
everything upside down and sideways
not lining up with the Grand Alignment
offset by 2 degrees of separation
Hah, you thought seven
I'm closing the gap
if you will too?
make it better for the both of us
you over there
me right here

gapping gapping gaping
flippin' trippy!
the stop-gag order was a frame up
who framed the famous welsh rarebit?
What's up doc? don't you remember?
the particulate matter dissolved
into thin air
what's the matter? Nothing.
encompass with your compasses
the final pass of infinite space
where finite space meets Austin city limits
nothing really matters to me either
especially not PBS
go public or stay private
as nothing really should
interfer with your sense of statiated stayedness
remember not to fly too high when watching Ponderosa
flying circles over me
I see you too
dont do anything
I love you the way you are
dont go changin' to try to please me
you never did before
do this in memory of me
brought to you by Jesus Sandals tm
do as does
so like a doe he does do does well
and nothing for nothing is good for nothing often goes
for saying and nothing ever does nothing
to do nothing
peculiar in these parts per million
glitches of spent witches
should have kept her heart
dried up hygrageneas on the range rover
a dry gulch; a greedy gritch big gulp guzzler at the 711

the elemental and sentimental silenced my heart
decries in the vacuum long assumed innocent
Lincoln's log cabin in the woods
screaming his boyhood history
beyond the normal range of hearing
picked up by those who hear with spirit ears
deadbeat bears lifeless souls peace out
flower-dried RIP tears through the corazon
dead end timed out before the starting gate opened
an opening would have been nice
but it closed as quickly as it did
A Fair ride at the Fair?
I think not!
enter through the no door
at your own risk
jokers wild
life's cruel jest
so innane even for those days
who played every day in the park
running thoughts from others telepathy
caught thoughtless trains of thoughts
walked naked as a blue jay
even after the reunion
even-after eternal life crept up
and the emptiness envelopes you yet
unaddressed issues these I
return to sender
Elvis has left the building
so where did he go?
can he find my house on gps?

as spirit evaporated milk into ether
turned sour dough in San Francisco
called wormwood homeless
and it's Medusa face
a shameful existence
for a fallen star
decreed doom?

rotten decay of nonexistence!

a receptacle bins of holding in lieu the queue
the clue...
a quick pickup and deposit
so many years of yesterday's forgotten dinners
unable to recall the details of what was
and that old chestnut; immortality
the fatal glass of beer
the fatal blow
the fatal natale
stocked up on uncooperativeness
laid waste the trash

being love's surety and understudy
as not being too persistent
and not being too personal
stood me in good stead
a steady lover day after day
Dali's persistence of memory
hangs crooked yet straight upon the wall
encapsulates wisdoms
hypostulates theories
incorporates actions
dry as a bone wisdom
creaking old bones
thoughts can't tweak anymore
only memory bent light
prisms rainbow magic
reflected light show of shadows
black and white tv
nothing ok anything
coming from a zombie
deadhead
black hole deeper purple
the spaced out nine

as memories linger and harken back
remember 911 a call to shore up
all the stores one had in store
means SQUAT
that we may have been once NO MORE
AND all that

I've seen the light it's black and blue
beaten up
but it was a blacklight shining the unseen world
dimly lit city lights; a Parisian backdrop
a polished diamond left bank sunset's purple haze
so blinded by night's poisonous ink all night
tattoo parlours
i just had to write about Love
often drawn as a clown
as to dwell in the mirky depths the most comfort
like bad medicine is a good poison to some

so bright the lights thisnights on broadway
as to extinguished any and all
as remote a glimmer
of thinly veiled hope
the kind of shadowy hope
that lingers like a cellar dweller
drinking fine spirits and hops
taking it down, deconstruct
as we all knew what we know now
in our heart of hearts
always the Queen
who's recent stay reminded me
the window is only slightly ajar today

a flame sqelched, sputtered and hissed
quenched by the "down there" watery grave
every hopeful promise dashed
every wishful thought denied
every dream vision a version of delusion
for naught sweet nitey nites good night
baby bye-bye sweet baby Innane, Insanity's Baby Sister
decadent lover prone to impromptu decay
as wormwood turns inside-out my once steely guts
return to the grave to barter there
there with the other ranks of Humanities outstanding
bright lights grow ever dimmer
restless yet this place
in the day of our disaster
to wit this place of suspended animation
waivering like a flag depossessed by the pole
flying away, furling out of control
the gain is waiting is in queue
waiting for the long awaited never ever after
waiting while you pass the hours praying to your Unknown
waiting while you pass the test
they said you'd never have to do
the same way you entered here X
you exited the X crossed the t's
said a silent slip of a prayer
said a lot of nothing
as this became you
if not nothing, something
you did become
became white becamel sauce
white and creamy, loving and giving
too kind to get in the game you wrote about
whatever else it is
mostly it is simple bs
why you laugh
out loud?

as quickly as this it had begun
the startup turned to finish line done
your last word please
dont sneeze hold on
just a moment please
a hush
a pip
a slap in the face
tell me
be silent clown
the funny game
yes
the funny game is all over
is it?

jj

Really creepy I know! On the creep-o-meter this was pretty creepy for me. More existential creepy, but nonetheless, creepy with a capital "C". Shadowy Creepy creepy when creeper vines harbour spiders kind of kreepy! A Creepy Keepy!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

~~A~POEM~A~DAY~~EMILY DICKINSON~~"A Day! Help! Help! Another Day!" 42/1775




A Day! Help! Help! Another Day!

A Day! Help! Help! Another Day!
Your prayers, oh Passer by!
From such a common ball as this
Might date a Victory!
From marshallings as simple
The flags of nations swang.
Steady — my soul: What issues
Upon thine arrow hang!

by Emily Dickinson

Fanatical fans of Emily, this poem is insightful and inciteful. I think I feel this poem is like a call to arms, a rallying cry of some sort, probably patriotic in all senses of the word. This poem expounds upon a cry, like a town crier; Hear Yea, Hear Yea! Yes, Emily, we hear you! What exactly do you mean? Lets deduce her epic cries.

"A Day! Help! Help! Another Day!" Emily is crying to the passerbys to pity her soul and she asks for another day to help her find her "Victory".

"From such a common ball as this" could be reference to cannon fodder. Emily feels that she is common and a ball at the same time. Double entendre, and satrical in that she is referencing war imagery. Could it be the War of 1812 or the Civil War Emily is referring? Well I would think the War of 1812 where there was much more extensive use of "arrow"s.

The War of Independence 1776 time frame as Emily is mentioning "The flags of nations swang". It is past tense "swang" and the Civil War did happen during Emily's lifetime so I think she is definitely referencing this "nations" as the War of 1812 between the British and the Colonist's; the early Americans.

Emily has her own "issues" regarding this war.

Steady — my soul: What issues
Upon thine arrow hang!

The banner of flags and the banner of issues that the war brought about, the political angst of feeling attachment yet separation to either party during war. The confused state of allegiance to state or state of the soul. These ideas weigh heavy on Emily's heart, and so this is a song of woe, a poem pondering the religious question; what comes first; church or state, soul or political sway. The sway clearly demonstrated in the waving or waivering flag.

Chiccoreal Capture the Captive Questions of Miss Emily's Quandries Quarantined no Guarantee, but here's at go at 'er!


Which way will she go?
Emily's not lost
She's dated Victory!
She has already gone with him
gone around with him
dated for quite a while
Victory lovers
left Emily cold
and ponderous
poetry meanders
like a stream
hoping to find the river
that will lead back to the
Ocean...Emily's far shore!
the way of the waiver; the flag
light in the loafers
Waving goodbye
or come again!
The flap's over that
Tossed like a flapjack
by lumberjacks
on the homefire's hearth
stoking and kindling
The Spirit of Romance
A Mighty force recog'n
as state battles against state of mind
and all those sacred places
of soul
and the sanctity of that, in that and by that
Buy that?
What?
Some other's version of Victory?
Say what?
Emily did questioned as once
wedded to or at least did
had a steady
Emily Dated Victory!
Is Victory Dated
In Victorian times
Held so High?

Help! Help! Another Day!
Emily Calm down
Ask yourself once suppine
Have you finally made up your mind
Which side you lay your head?
The Soul side of the bed
is usually
the South side
nitty gritty
the sunny side
smiles
Emily's side
of the Street!
Choose wisely Fellow Harkened thus
By Emily says
Go for The Soul
AbSOULutely must!

jj

Thursday, October 7, 2010

~~~Tobin Island Dreamin'~~~


Free Will
A Fifth Wheel
Housing a Coupling
This was the way to go

i'll never know now
about the intricacies
the delicacies
the frilly lace things
ny ancient ancestry
unless i go back and sit on it
claim it as my own
homestead a while
get the deed to what was deeded me
by my forebearers
Forthence black bears
walking upright
otholipithicus
heritary dna
a kickback a throw back
dont throw me back
without a night light
or a suitable smoke
Fort nights ere long ago
ere argo irgo
like a homesteader dude
MUSKOKA HEAVEN
purple smoke rises from homefires
Alogonquin always calls me
"Jane, come here, now"
in the fall especially to visit
when, like the Group of Seven
i paint en pleine aire

Ottawa's our own capital city
tobin's island a stone-throw away
mcdonald dip o' the silver chalice
commandeer
blessings to the clearest cleanest
waters this side of Hog town
immortalized lake
drinking the sweet nectar
sacred water of our God
Holy Jesus!
a dream of immoralization
waiting patiently
to build our dream house
St. Margaret know how
building rez houses
dream upon dream
rideau certainly knew how too
and mugwumps!
prefabricated stories
no lies
hold me down
nanaboozo
was it on the rye or the rum?
with the ancients there dreams
were more important than things
the heart says the ancestors
is the wisdom of the ages
drunk with the wine
of the Spirit
flying high totem's magic angel's hair
know their fright night
bear walker somewhat ominious ways
to the uninitiated
tried to tell me
dont go there girlfriend
i'm the girlfriend?
hold me back
there's only letting go
you yell you let me go
yet you keep me here
tied me to the old tree
the old ways
i dont mind
more's the pity new you
got to know the true gritty you
blinded to faith binded to you to find
peace within love seeping
from every crevice
devise a device
flow thru teabags
let the love pour forth
like a frothy Montreal River
coeur de bois
heart of berry?
bind my feet if you must
to the musty old ground
we stood at the standoff
sending the spirit descending
as ascending off you went
to
tom tomson's cabin
a nook in the woods for snook
for truths come undone
and found within you
the beauty lies still born
if you have to marry her
leave me alone
to fend with hungry wolves
the tales I must tell
when under your intoxication
during this time of the fall
when all crashes down
a renewed zeal
upon my fated brow
the professor calms me down
return to innocence by the score
to Wasaga Beach free as the wind
St Marie Amongst the Hurons
had horrors, no doubt but we have
Father Brebeuf praying for me
as I pray for him
sending back and forth this
communication of Spirited Love
We'll learn about once I find
the key to the Universal truth
when the Spirit is willing
to speak on the wind to me
to tell me the long lost secrets
held deep within the core of my
unravelling, my ancient dna
tied in with yours somehow
How?
Says the Chief
How!
remember their truths
were not so simple
as the paths were many
could have been multiple
only one path now
how to find
the old ways of the old ones
held in secreted places
only the heart can find
our path to follow
tell us we needed to know
of the long lost turtle tribe
infinity bound
ageless as the seas
you leave you shells as a reminder
fully engaged to be one
as we imbibed the spirit
all could see
the visions
in the dreams
all buried deep in that old oak tree
keeps me safe and warm
as i protector and provisioner
imparting harvest's bounty
dispensing wisdom
departing never
free from any harm
you bleed the precious blood
free from any stripe
free from any whip from mortal coil
or Mississauga Rattlesnake who makes
the medicine man
as those ancestors are held
within its trunk
never leave me
Spirit
stay rooted
til kingdom come

jj