some fragments for you, because I can't pick up the line, never could I suppose. the line that dances from this particular place, with this particular intonation. the jazz of the heart when you were all funk(ed). what little you understood wasn't in a book, so drop it. your reading was poor. you wait for translations, commentaries, the 'for dummies' series or the film version.
[your heart,]
points North.
this is the coastline of discovery, old
first tries recur here.
the ratchet in the will
the redwood in the heart.
not lost, the explorers of that
tiny space of intense reflection
and the signs of exploration
go on-where...
what was your face
before you were born?
a man is made
of scattered images, a route...
to talk to those now gone,
to you especially
who hardly spoke at all while you were here
a golden silence toward the ocean
toward the coming sunset
to answer the heart?
the grain falling through the glycerine
the mustard seed falling through
the Westward-facing heart
beat
germinates, the greenery
the crack left agap
to die out through
shows back, a flash of winter
intense green, after the first rains
out of the dun.
that isn't home.
it's what the heart is given
to make home out of.
---Ken Irby.
Track home, your deviations wilder and wider off. the image more faint with time. like an important word you mark with a lead pencil. you suppose there's some meaning down there. a late run once the sun is down; it's the only time you favour the narrowing of the mind. north of north-west, and I'm out of here. don't look for me.
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12 comments:
It is my first time(s) writing here-there in the dark, so bear with me, please, dearest Blogger, I fear there will be lots of punctuation marks.
All this from you, dear Blogger? Because I've got the feeling, here, there is, already, a perfect book for everything and that includes those said fireworks in the night. So, if I hardly "spoke at all when there-here" - I'm thinking this must be the line- it is because I need not, I'm here-there, abridging in-between. If you don't get it (please, pardon this seemingly rough choice of words: it's not!), get it also from Diderot, instructing Sophie, his beloved, in a June letter " wherever will be nothing, read…" (please, help my memory and search for full quote).
I'm not too sure, as a rule, but, as exception, I'm sure even in Lahore there's sun behind that (black) sun as there are days, distance, of the obstinate kind, stretching indistinguishably to where all (my?) reasons end. There is no sadness, dear blogger, there really isn't. there's longing stretching thinner and there is second-guessing,
at times,
yours
seemingly
as wild as mine.
(At times, this time, informed by "poor" readings from a Dear Blogger, E.B., H.C, HH and sometimes from Diderot. Or was it Derrida? Not sure, can't remember, again you're second-guessing though: there's no translation needed. I've promised there would be punctuation marks. Sorry.)
Be good, dear Blogger, you tend to do that very well (it's obvious along the years).
Memory of sun seeps from the heart.
What is it? -- Dark?
Perhaps! Winter will have occupied us
In the night.
Anna
Oh, i was looking forward to the punctuation marks, anon! :-)
"over the years"? have you really been reading this for that long, A? and why so silent?
Khair...thanks for dropping by.
b.
hey, roxana, you cheeky monkey, that's my quote! you copied and pasted from one of my earlier posts!!
i might have! :-)
after all, anon is not the only person having read you over the years, and paying close attention, at that!
Hmm...just you wait, professor Higgins! two can play at that game, my friend! :-)
b.
Yes & yes. Yes, you tend to be good over the years, I stick by that; and yes, my not so secret thing is the very secret life of punctuation marks. This one, a person of many quirks, I' m afraid. Now, may I keep reading, over more years?
Best, A
why, 'I'm afraid'? sorry for so many questions, and so early in the morning! (there, i put one in for you :-))
Gosh, I'm mighty flattered that you have been visiting all these years, A. If I'd known I would have offered you some tea (though the virtual stuff isn't that good and I'm not sure how fond Americans are of tea anyway!).
They are, they are…remember?…this is the tea Republic! In fact, I often wonder: what would we be, if it weren't for all that tea? …Some think it's all in the pursuit of happiness- may be!- I am inclined to favor the pursuit of T. Hey, thank you anyway...
"Why I'm afraid?" Well, let's just say-for the obvious purpose to evade - I haven't met that many people fascinated by a comma or a full stop. Why, have you, dear B? :)
:-))
yes, guess you're right, A, probably not that many people "out there" now that you come to mention it. Well, apart from the Taleban, no, haven't met that many people interested in full stops(okay, okay, a poor joke, I know! :-))
you know, A, your voice does sound awfully familiar (it's okay, you can evade all you want here on the bs). Hmm. I guess that's the problem with being anonymous: the other person, here, always wonders who is there!
And I wonder...says the mirror...you, dear stranger, sound familiar.
Now, I've met one black sun here& there- actually, I'd venture say they were 2
The questions, rather simple: who's who & who are you?
(I liked the joke) Are you into punctuation marks, as well, dear Blogger?
One more thing, dear B: I would think the person there, knows who's who everywhere.:)
Be fine, b! Coffee break over for me.
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