Monday, July 27, 2015

Part Of A Revealing Joy

For many readings I've water-colored the backs of cut out poems
and put them on a clothesline so I can just reach up for a poem 
and read it.
Here are three.


(back of poem)

Pulling myself out of the doldrums, the fair-weather surprise
comes when it comes, but I want it now,
where is it? Dawn of dawns, are you coming?
The beginning pinhole explosion, no explosion please, that’s happened
just light, clear skies except for some beautiful rosy-lit clouds
as the gods step out of the gods.....

 / from Escape At Home, poems 2005

Here's a larger one.

Panguage Loets

(back of poem)


Barles Churnstein
Warret Batten
Beve Stenson
Hyn Lejinian
Yoeff Gung
Bavid Denedetti
Harla Carryman
Pob Berelman
Floria Grym
McCave Staffery
Aruce Bandrews
Reeve Stodefer
Cark Cloolidge
Pichael Malmer
Bei Bei Mersenbrugge
& Sonn Rilliman
all of them coming out of the ghost of
Stertrude Gein. 

 /from Remembering the Present, poems 2008

(one more of many, usually spontaneously done in preparing for a reading)


(back of poem)

I never knew the difference between a thousand years & a string on my chest.
 String theory, hiccup therapy. Does time go by?
  What is therapy? Does whatever you did to make it better
do any good?
   Have you finally contracted an enigmatical pause?
   How can a higher power be involved in little squijits
so teeny nobody can ever see them?
   The building blocks of everything whizzing around
all energy, no intelligence at all?
   All is a useful word if you don=t use it at all,
   I give up, scientists, you=ve got me broken up into little
whizzing pieces, no solidity ever.
   Solidity has disappeared. I have nothing to stand on.
  String theory destroys meaning & presents us with surprise,
 Only the Buddhists were right. Catch on to the now
with talons
 Which I=m sure you have.
 Glide & hold on to Aletting go.@ Creative intelligence?
Stenciled madness. Peace & serenity broken up into energy.
 The secret of the universe flying.

/ from Remembering the Present, poems 2005

The clothes-line which I can stretch out and hang poems from.

Poetry Can Be a Revealing Joy

A life devoted to poetry and its creations is an ever evolving life full of almost daily surprises when a poem appears, when a drawing appears, when a musical improvisation appears, as it is all generated from the core of being a poem, in my sense, as in Louis Zukofsky's, "Poetry if anything has a sense of everything."

And since whoever's listening is usually looking, the back of the poem, or the folder, or the binder or the book, is visible to them, as well as the poet (what he looks like), how he makes himself up, if he or she does, the lighting of the room, and on occasion, the manifestation of any object that might go with the poem or at the time of inflatus, come out of the poem.

Poetry when allowed to open up all avenues to the poet is a broader more 3-dimensional or multi-dimensional phenomenon that will continually bring great joy to a poet as well as conveying intense articulation of anxious depths of exasperation from the full palette of human life.

love to all,
larry goodell / placitas, new mexico / 27jul2015

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