Click the link immediately below to hear the audio version
(which is, frankly... the way this wants most to exist):
Poem Reading

I had intended to say,
“It is not that we see so much that is not worth looking at,
but that we look at so much – we almost never really see anything”
but I didn’t say it quite right.
It was Ashbery that reminded me, in his poem for Clare,
that Maya’s rock is a rock is a rock is…
important
but, then, I knew that already.

I was gathering possibilities by then,
cupping them in my hands
and throwing them into the air –
redefining “optimism” with a poet’s neurotic enthusiasm.
And why not? Or more accurately – why don’t we?
What’s wrong with us that we don’t
instinctually believe in the all-of-everything
and the everything of all things?

If we closed the eye that can’t see its own dreams
and realized that everything is what it might seem
(if we were blind enough to believe such things),
we’d be brave enough to dive headlong
into those uncharted waters that exist within.
There, on each island that we journeyed to,
we’d find the rocks that might anchor us
basking on the shores of a dream
and we’d do so, only for having drown first.

We have but two choices.

We can accept the universal definitions
that have been handed to us – or we can,
dare to discover the universe for and within ourselves.
The former is, as should be obvious, self imposed
intellectual and might I suggest, emotional atrophy
but if you don’t mind the possibility of shock therapy –
the other is a very viable alternative.
For heaven’s sake – why did we ever let them
“teach” us to swim?

We could, I suppose – if we wanted to,
sit around talking about how deep the water is,
how we read a book or poem once about a swimmer,
how our grandmother once was pinched by a crab
while swimming at the shore on some long ago
summer vacation that the family took………

But, God!
somewhere deep inside each of us
is a part of us that remembers how the water feels
and that knows that we belong there.
What is wrong with us that we listen only
to everyone else?

Why are we so scared… to get our feet wet?

I had said something like,
“It is not that we see so much that is not worth looking at,
but that we look at so much – we almost never really see anything”
but I realized I meant something quite different.
I was thinking, actually,
about how fantastically different things look
underwater.

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Immersion Contributed by Silent-No-More on Friday, 6th April 2007 @ 02:58:22 PM in AEST Topic: Lifepoems Click the link immediately below to hear the audio version (which is, frankly... the way this wants most to exist): Poem Reading I had intended to say, “It is not that we see so much that is not worth looking at, but that we look at so much – we almost never really see anything” but I didn’t say it quite right. It was Ashbery that reminded me, in his poem for Clare, that Maya’s rock is a rock is a rock is… important but, then, I knew that already. I was gathering possibilities by then, cupping them in my hands and throwing them into the air – redefining “optimism” with a poet’s neurotic enthusiasm. And why not? Or more accurately – why don’t we? What’s wrong with us that we don’t instinctually believe in the all-of-everything and the everything of all things? If we closed the eye that can’t see its own dreams and realized that everything is what it might seem (if we were blind enough to believe such things), we’d be brave enough to dive headlong into those uncharted waters that exist within. There, on each island that we journeyed to, we’d find the rocks that might anchor us basking on the shores of a dream and we’d do so, only for having drown first. We have but two choices. We can accept the universal definitions that have been handed to us – or we can, dare to discover the universe for and within ourselves. The former is, as should be obvious, self imposed intellectual and might I suggest, emotional atrophy but if you don’t mind the possibility of shock therapy – the other is a very viable alternative. For heaven’s sake – why did we ever let them “teach” us to swim? We could, I suppose – if we wanted to, sit around talking about how deep the water is, how we read a book or poem once about a swimmer, how our grandmother once was pinched by a crab while swimming at the shore on some long ago summer vacation that the family took……… But, God! somewhere deep inside each of us is a part of us that remembers how the water feels and that knows that we belong there. What is wrong with us that we listen only to everyone else? Why are we so scared… to get our feet wet? I had said something like, “It is not that we see so much that is not worth looking at, but that we look at so much – we almost never really see anything” but I realized I meant something quite different. I was thinking, actually, about how fantastically different things look underwater. Copyright © Silent-No-More ... [ 2007-04-06 14:58:22] (Date/Time posted on site) Advertisments: Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem