the missing thing that is completely different from everything else, but everything has a stake in it.

Friday, October 14, 2022

what was that? afterward to soupe de guerre and preface to the rest

 


afterward:

what was that?


oh, that was


an essay (attempt, experiment) 


in neo-romantic or romantical critical theory/practice, 

a mirror of being grown irrevocably whole 

in the very moment, shrieking, laughing out loud 

weeping oceans long blocked at the gate,

swooning in ecstasy, whilst computers cooly calculate

to verify the result -- of gaining distance

and glimpsing itself in this mirror,

apart and contained within, weaver and woven

into the skein of the suddenly read/seen scene

at this rebirth of rebirth...

if you would please respect your neighbors

by shutting the shades whenever

this supersonic rocket racing around the world 

isn't barreling into the no less actual than eternal sunrise

bleeding into the sunset at this rate, 

(as in Skaya's tile sky affixed to a school),

so forget the blinds, 

form fluidly flowing into content

and vice versa, and perceptible as such --

the impediments to seeing, having, and keeping it

all manipulations; kick hard and kick them off! 

or, if you've the skill, 

disdisenchant these disenchanters with a snake dance,

or however you do it, do it! Or...

if you already, having caught a few cold drafts of my drift,

or the moment you do so, dread, fear and oppose 

any such effort at an effort at an effort..

however distantly removed 

from the inaccessible vanishing point,

deeming the least reference 

to such a convergence,

a threat to all enlightened discourse,

which indeed it is, 

only I would put "enlightened" in quotations,

until this long missing passage is included,

the map of the world legible and navigable,

the keystone in place, and the scaffold freed

for rafters, rafts for the riffraff, etc.,

the threat revealed preserver, redeemer, the future! --

but if you intractably disagree and are steeled

in resistance to any such suggestions 

even of what I am only suggesting 

only utterly suggestively,

I, to you the devil herself, but,

as in the account beloved of cognoscentis

having a soft spot for lovers, 

so in this, conspiring with Jesus,

offer this thread as the flaw in your carpet for good luck,

the one Satanic verse that proves you're not a demagogue,

your discourse might not be Satanic, 

and you faithfully follow

or are a worthy rival of great Muhammed. 

Read marksism (artism) --

after you gave up hope for such a thing

determined the hoped for downright evil,

as even if it's real, which is supremely doubtful,

the flower's just too short lived to justify the rot,

and arranged your whole world accordingly --

disable Spring, this cruelest month's not worth the pain,

[however if your knees bend to plant, 

you'll soon feel much better] --

not thinking that, should it appear, 

bamboozling and making mincemeat

of your ideas about it, 

just as, at the first fire they make,

having rubbed and rubbed,

flint and stone cry WHAT IS THIS?

just as hydrogen and oxygen shrieked,

outraged at becoming spray in the passage to water,

or as all mates do when it's time to tie the knot

and initiate with a big bang

replacement by their imminent,

exhaustingly self-assertive synthesis --

it might induce you to rethink the matter, 

a thing like no other thing under the sun, 

religion (religament) for the recalcitrant

is truly catholic (all inclusive) and roamin

(so lazily circuitously peripatetic 

it seems to be a viscous verb

bogged down in a blog that wants to be a novel)..

brace yourself as we barrel through a black hole

into an ulterior universe smiling like Mona Lisa,

the cat that ate the rat; however you deface her

until you become her, you cannot erase her,

and then you won't need or want to.

You will love what is

and no longer, if I may say so --

aren't you sick of all the targeted pandering

to what we already are to reinforce and reinforce it,

as by now we're made of some kind of indestructible plastic

that even art finds harder and harder to erode,  --

be a hazard to humanity.

Repent! Repent! The kingdom is at hand!


Whip me! Harder Phyllis ! Ohhh that feels so good!

Love, Aristotle



"...yours is the friend of all mankind.
mine speaks in parables to the blind."...


traveling to the ends of the earth to gather up  us, those who love and mind the mind, the blindest of the blind, the brats worst!


for posts inspiring or inspired by this caveat, scroll way far down to October 2022 posts in blog ARCHIVE -- listed BELOW PAGES, to right