Sweet coco jam put me over the edge. It is amazing how something so simple can lead you to discover the Unfathomable. God’s fingerprints are all over this cold, cold earth—the warmth buried below the surface, shining past the ice.
What is this blog for. It is to enable me to break from the happy constraints of prose & wander into poetry while I am discussing foods that I like or music that I adore or friendly people such as yourselves. The muse has been awakened, she can sleep no more—the poet heart in me has been knocking at my door, asking “when will you come? Write me a note or a love song. When can I see you again?”
I had barred the way, refused to come down the way that we turn off the TV and hide when Jehovah’s Witnesses or salespeople (or in the digital world, telemarketers) come clambering into our most private moments
But the Muse, she a dear friend. And I had shut her out.
No longer, I have resolved. We were friends, now why should we be enemies, I muse. O muse. Let us have tea together, let us paint a picture of the world as we see it, let us paint a portrait of the world as it is, let us leave no fault unturned, no curse, let us leave no nicety unremarked upon.
Muse, let us wander through the streets of our cities. Let us sing songs that have not been sung, let us be enchanted. Let us gravitate to the pull of a new orbit, let us be undone. For the sake of art, life, & love.
Let us plant a flower in Elysian fields. Let us command a troop in the Peloponnesian war. Let us roll boulders down mountains. Let us climb headlong over walls, the ones they show in documentaries about the military or the ones they show on Nickelodeon game shows, the ones with colored ropes and buckets of green slime waiting astride.
Let us march the Himalayas in fashionable summer wear.
Let us snorkel for buried treasure in bathtubs, in museum fountains, wherever they will allow it (& some places where they will not)
Let us write long poems for fun, for the thrill of the chase, not to be pretentious or gaudy or ostentatious (a synonym of gaudy), but because we are re-discovering the world through art. We are seeing what can be seen through the lenses we already have, but had buried. We are trying to interpret the madness through sure signs & means.
We are trying to paint a picture of the world as we see it. We are trying to paint a portrait of the world as it is.
…And then, in a bright flash of light & sound—& not before, not after—we will superimpose our dreams on the pavement of every sidewalk & street over which we have walked. In electric wire & light.
(10.22.11)
