Complexity
in a sheer, shimmering
shift
in the adaptive cycle
forewarns the chimera
the chaos,
the stochastic event.
When looking backwards
is falling
forward momentum-
inertia
driving
to a pause
between axis
in the curves
behind thresholds
of attraction.
The marble rolls
on a ridge
precariously
in a state of criticality
awaiting forces
to influence
gravitational pull
to a basin of attraction
a well
a deep well
fallen in
fallen through
once before
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
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Welcome to "When I Wax"-- a place to escape the pedants and wax poetic, or even wax artistic.
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living. He said, "You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you. You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are."
When I Wax is such a place for me. Blogging drafts of poetry and other sundries is like practice fly-casting on the front lawn... it may look silly, but it's effective...
The mythologist Joseph Campbell was asked by an interviewer how a regular person could preserve his sense of the mythic when so many feel too besieged by the claims of every day living. He said, "You must have a place to which you can go, in your heart, in your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not know what you owe anyone or what anyone owes you. You must have a place you can go to where you do not know what your work is or who you work for, where you do not know who you are married to or who your children are."
When I Wax is such a place for me. Blogging drafts of poetry and other sundries is like practice fly-casting on the front lawn... it may look silly, but it's effective...
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Anatomy
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- Tentative philomath, aspiring polymath. Sometimes ribald, most times Renaissance, always looking in the rearview mirror.
CURRENT MOON
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
Thank you
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
George Gordon Byron
The Destruction of Sennacherib
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 License.
3 comments:
The tension you've created with words is most amazing. I can feel it every time I read. The perilous state of that which is held at edge is almost suffocating. I continue to be surprised and impressed by your compositions.
OK, I just have to tell you... last night, I attended my first poetry workshop and thought of you the whole time! We were asked to think of a poet who really made us stop and ponder, who inspired us and gave us this urge to write poetry and you came to my mind immediately! Beautiful as always, my friend!
Thank you wyethhouse...the state you mention is indeed perilous, but also full of potential. I appreciate your kind words.
Jo, how flattering! I am so happy that you are getting into "workshopping" your poetry. That's a big step, one that implies a large commitment to your work and your own voice. Glad to hear that my work has given you some measure of inspiration.
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