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Mourning Ramble


dr_con
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Mourning Ramble

 

I built a Bramble Castle

where among the wasps

and stinging thorns

the conceit is hidden

of all young men

that if their thoughts

would be revealed

 

surely pain would destroy the Other

Here among salvaged pornography

seared red glimpses of anger, drunken

nakedness, open casket nightmares

confrontations with God, irregular heart-

beats, casual rejection, attempted and

succeeded suicides, irrational fights

on the color of clear white light

and the daily betrayal of adults of the child

they once were

 

in the dust and the soil and the hot humming roots

We find powerful path Gris Gris- filled with compassion

and the ability to Change- To recognize the magic

 

when it happens- Our Cat was just living his nature

when he captured and tortured that Mourning Dove

a hall filled with tail feathers, one broken wing, a proud

lion presenting his Enemy Combatant to his Pride- "It's

my fault for all those canned chicken dinners- If I had really

been his mother, I would have demonstrated how to make

dinner replete with roasting and giblets and sauce..." She

stared from her temporary nest- just out of reach, beneath

our semi feral Iris and vines, a beautiful purple cheek-

old school Opera makeup- and the calm acceptance of fate

oft used to justify the moment before sacrifice- I sat

 

drank another beer, holding the flower patterned towel

I would use to break her neck- end her suffering- The Buddha

of Compassion worshiped by Genghis Khan and Kamikazes

affirming the cycle by being part of the path which is less used

the older I get- the harder it is to bend under the low hanging

willow branches, now I just leave my Moments to bake under

the noon day sun unprotected and stripped of their specialness

and privilege- It will surprise no-one: When coming to the decision

the flower box was empty- Either a hawk or a fake injured wing

simply doing what needed to be done.

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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Like so much of your work this inspires much thought. Heretofore I have been somewhat shy about asking questions regarding the work of others. I hope that you can appreciate the difference between asking a question and questioning. Please understand that I ask as a student wanting to learn. In much of your work I notice that you seem to break sentences and verses randomly- I wonder what your thought process is, how and why you make those choices.

An example of this in this poem is the break between verse 1 and 2. As I have not mastered the little white boxes used on this forum I have copied and pasted them below.

 

“I built a Bramble Castle

where among the wasps

and stinging thorns

the conceit is hidden

of all young men

that if their thoughts

would be revealed

 

surely pain would destroy the Other

Here among salvaged pornography

seared red glimpses of anger, drunken

nakedness, open casket nightmares

confrontations with God, irregular heart-

beats, casual rejection, attempted and

succeeded suicides, irrational fights

on the color of clear white light

and the daily betrayal of adults of the child

they once were

 

Now my question: Why did you chose to break the verse where you did? Why did you decide not to say-

 

“would be revealed

surely pain would

destroy the Other”

 

Then start the second verse with the line:

 

“Here among salvaged pornography…”

 

Another example and question:

 

“ in the dust and the soil and the hot humming roots

We find powerful path Gris Gris- filled with compassion

and the ability to Change- To recognize the magic

 

when it happens- Our Cat was just living his nature

when he captured and tortured that Mourning Dove

a hall filled with tail feathers, one broken wing, a proud

lion presenting his Enemy Combatant to his Pride- "It's

my fault for all those canned chicken dinners- If I had really

been his mother, I would have demonstrated how to make

dinner replete with roasting and giblets and sauce..." She

stared from her temporary nest- just out of reach, beneath

our semi feral Iris and vines, a beautiful purple cheek-

old school Opera makeup- and the calm acceptance of fate

oft used to justify the moment before sacrifice- I sat”

 

Why does verse 3 exists apart from verse 4.

 

I offer these as examples of places that intrigue me. What thought process do you employee when you decide to stop one verse and start another.

 

I enjoyed this work so much. It paints an interesting and real picture. The detail is vivid. Again, as always, worthy of study.

 

rg

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Thanks RG! Interesting questions- My Voice (s) have their own grammar and syntax ;-) The line breaks and verse breaks depend on the internal grammar of the voice/self/poem complex- For example:

 

that if their thoughts

would be revealed

 

surely pain would destroy the Other

Here among salvaged pornography

 

What would be revealed? Pain that would destroy. What sort of pain would a young man think could destroy?

salvaged pornography

 

A meta-discourse if you will, One that the voice of a poem recognizes- and which, the author, hopes will convey something which can not be written, rather its absence is the point- If one is not following a form- how then is the form to be determined?

and the ability to Change- To recognize the magic

 

when it happens- Our Cat was just living his nature

 

Ability to change- must be time for a line break to change the thought- which includes the recognition of magic, which happens (with luck) off page, when it happens- so the verse is broken, as thought flees for an instant in the awareness of the eternal now where the magic happens- and who does that magic our cat and his nature...

 

erm- since I'm explaining the unexplainable- by its nature a signifier of voice a semiotic reasoning which eludes my best intention to interpret, rather it is along the lines of the congressional definition of pornography: "We know it when we see it" and ultimately and humbly submit that I in my supposed special place as author is less qualified than you the reader, to critique and answer these questions- In other words: Does it work for you? If yes or no- Why?

 

I have long believed that one approach to critical theory, is to treat all pieces as if they were sacred- a Bible of sorts (One famous deconstructionist wrote a huge tome called and based on "The Telephone Book"- She treated the text as sacred and derived wondrous insight...

 

Much Grace (hoping I just made some sense;-)

 

Dr. Con

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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I had to laugh when I read this note on your piece

 

"I have long believed that one approach to critical theory, is to treat all pieces as if they were sacred".

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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This reads like a coming-of-age experience. The part about the cat and the bird resounds with "boys will be boys." A wild ride, Dr. Con.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Thanks Tony and JJ for dropping in! Glad you enjoyed icon_cool.gif

 

Joel Joel,

 

Why laugh? icon_lol.gif

 

DC

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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