Within their somber suits,
they dance and celebrate.
The world crumbles;
their powers wax.
They are final as death,
eternal as tomorrow.
They believe in their magic,
the force of interest,
and cast its spell
upon us all.
Even the parasite rich
must bow to them.
Around and around they go.
Their dance, their world,
without end.
- mce
Thursday, April 30, 2009
The Knower and the Known
These maple trees
leaf out, each year,
copper-purple.
They know spring,
but they
do not know
of spring.
- mce
leaf out, each year,
copper-purple.
They know spring,
but they
do not know
of spring.
- mce
A Consolation for my Physician
Not to worry, Doc.
Don't mean fucking nothing.
We are all dead men here.
- mce
Don't mean fucking nothing.
We are all dead men here.
- mce
Timely Thoughts
I have heard a lot over the last few years about dealing with the past and future. Notions that the past can be overcome or "moved on" from or even forgotten have been pressed on me by well meaning people. I have also been told that the future can somehow be different or new without regard to either the present or the past. Having considered this at length, I have to conclude that they have been mistaken.
Their mistake lies in seeing life as a series or discreet events, as a time line with events as points when, in fact, it is not. It is more of a continuum, more like a river than a line. Thus the present is continuously informed by everything that happens to us prior up to the present moment. Everything that has been in our lives - positive or negative - resonates in and informs the now. Moreover, life is never a straight line. It is better described as a trajectory that is determined by and includes all of the events, people, etc. that we have encountered along the way. They are always present and always influencing us, whether we are aware of that influence or not.
As to the future, obviously it doesn't exist. The longer you live, the more aware of this you necessarily become. The future is a pleasant illusion for the young, but an absurd delusion in the more experienced. Obviously, your future is wherever you are now.
Now, in fact, is all there is and it contains both the so-called past and the alleged future. The only way to escape this phenomenon is to stop breathing.
Until then, it is create, interpret, re-interpret, renew, resurrect, recover, begin again...
Their mistake lies in seeing life as a series or discreet events, as a time line with events as points when, in fact, it is not. It is more of a continuum, more like a river than a line. Thus the present is continuously informed by everything that happens to us prior up to the present moment. Everything that has been in our lives - positive or negative - resonates in and informs the now. Moreover, life is never a straight line. It is better described as a trajectory that is determined by and includes all of the events, people, etc. that we have encountered along the way. They are always present and always influencing us, whether we are aware of that influence or not.
As to the future, obviously it doesn't exist. The longer you live, the more aware of this you necessarily become. The future is a pleasant illusion for the young, but an absurd delusion in the more experienced. Obviously, your future is wherever you are now.
Now, in fact, is all there is and it contains both the so-called past and the alleged future. The only way to escape this phenomenon is to stop breathing.
Until then, it is create, interpret, re-interpret, renew, resurrect, recover, begin again...
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Wallace Stevens
(Blogmesiter's Note: This little poem transformed my view of life and poetry. It is not so simple as it appears to be.)
Theory
I am what is around me.
Women understand this.
one is not duchess
a hundred yards from a carriage.
These, then are portraits:
a black vestibule;
a high bed sheltered by curtains.
These are merely instances.
Mona Lisa Redux
Old lovers
sit like drained
wine bottles
on wooden shelves
kissed by sun rays:
empty vessels,
their openings
still exquisite
in memory.
-mce
sit like drained
wine bottles
on wooden shelves
kissed by sun rays:
empty vessels,
their openings
still exquisite
in memory.
-mce
A Short Essay on the Essense of Fragility - for Uli
You broke my heart;
I lashed out.
Thirty years of life
canceled
in a minute.
Beware the illusion
of solidity.
Everything can be broken;
everything already is.
- mce
I lashed out.
Thirty years of life
canceled
in a minute.
Beware the illusion
of solidity.
Everything can be broken;
everything already is.
- mce
Holler
No internet,
no TV,
no cell phone,
no noise
but the breath
of nature.
Jesus,
is that sound
my heart beating?
-mce
no TV,
no cell phone,
no noise
but the breath
of nature.
Jesus,
is that sound
my heart beating?
-mce
Stay Close
The macro is useless;
the love of money
sucks the life
from everyone
and everything
it touches.
Instead:
drink a beer,
listen to bird song,
write poems,
make love
like it's the last time.
There is salvation
in the micro.
- mce
the love of money
sucks the life
from everyone
and everything
it touches.
Instead:
drink a beer,
listen to bird song,
write poems,
make love
like it's the last time.
There is salvation
in the micro.
- mce
Monday, April 27, 2009
A Beer For Richard Brautigan.
I bought a beer,
twice,
for Richard Brautigan
in 1972
at Thomas Lord's bar
on Union Street
in San Francisco.
Each time,
he was already drunk:
this is what life means.
-mce
twice,
for Richard Brautigan
in 1972
at Thomas Lord's bar
on Union Street
in San Francisco.
Each time,
he was already drunk:
this is what life means.
-mce
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Da Twoof
If you seek
eternal verities,
little grasshopper,
you are not just
on the the wrong blog,
you're on the wrong earth.
- mce
eternal verities,
little grasshopper,
you are not just
on the the wrong blog,
you're on the wrong earth.
- mce
Anti-depression Medication
One night
of shameless sex
with a warm,
willing, talented,
obscenely younger
woman
works every time.
- mce
of shameless sex
with a warm,
willing, talented,
obscenely younger
woman
works every time.
- mce
Suspicions
No one thing contains everything. Synecdoche is always suspect. Symbols are better. They mean both more and less, yet inhere no meaning at all: dust as dirty or dust as death - both equally true and equally not.
Rachel
Watching you
lighting a cigarette,
your long legs
smiling beneath
that flouncy,
breeze-blown
skirt
reminds me
why I still bother
to breathe
at all.
- mce
lighting a cigarette,
your long legs
smiling beneath
that flouncy,
breeze-blown
skirt
reminds me
why I still bother
to breathe
at all.
- mce
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