Come
out in the daylight hours
let
the union that is the voice on the tapes speak
mingle
with the sunlight float out the room with
the
incense
the
unreadable label it is my limitation I offer
come out in the daylight
hours
let
us love with our silence in the air
record
the voices
spread
them thru us waking time
the
day
is ours
to make or break
I
live up here where you can see the steps of this
country
up
to the largest volcanic crater
extinct
alive in extinction listening to the tapes
whatever enters the mind or
blows it
exhaustion of the voices of the earth
renews
come
out
meet
we meet
when
the sun comes down from zenith
tilt
the world
mingle
our landscapes
the beauties float up like muses encountered
the smoke into our lungs
out floats out over the voice
what gift there is this tape
night is for sleeping messages and miasma
trivia & concord in the folds interruption
& hard drinking
day
breaks
for friendship
&
the working out the orders of the voice
va ya ba ya the rocks say
we
listen to va ya ba-a-a-a-a ya
when
the pleasing lights fall leaves fall strike
the
fires outside our galaxy or wherever the X falls
to
speak to us
-tongue the
daylight hours our fall is golden
this
state shines thru come
out sun
casts & tilts the walls
we
follow speech
ba-a-a ya our humans given
from
outside revelation revolution-
to
learn come twining from the spirals
not
to learn
to
love sage inhale what cant be read
cottonwood
for the sacred fire
&
drums
make
it blow it up make it
it
is fall leaves fall
the
tender reach that catches
catch
me in friendship over & over
the
renewing is the stalk of my soul
come
out in the daylight hours
this
is the only sentiment that breaks the machine:
the
voice of those who love the most it
reaches
/16Oct67
larry goodell / placitas, new mexico
I linked to my new recording of this on Facebook and Bill Pearlman responded: "That effortless hopefulness is in the air in this. What a rare point in time, still a celebration not to be missed."
a poem from 1967 when we were recording poetry on tape and sharing it, so you hear "tapes" mentioned. hey, the message is the same: let's get together and celebrate poetry! written in the fall on the north shoulder of the Sandias just overlooking the village of Placitas, at the Hertfords' where I was caretaker . . . and I did a mimeo broadside of this but I don't seem to have more than one copy . . . I notice in my notebook from then that the next day I "listened to Spicer's lecture on dictated Poetry" which like all my tapes were 7 inch reel to reel, many of which I dubbed from Creeley or recorded myself.
 |
| me in those 60's |
Thanks, Bill! and thanks David Chorlton for this: "Sounds fresh today, with verbal energy on tape!"
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