Bring Out the Trees in the Heart
by Steven McCabe
The unseen has now been seen
Bring out the nets braided with theory
Theories made of thread
Threads made of air
Bring out the threads made of air
One filament of ornamental air encoded within a supposed entity
Transmitting thirst
Hail the laws of Cyrus!
A juror concealed within valves of light
Whistles alarm sound-song sharp as a needle
Revealed
In mound-like hills
A supposed entity carries forward the encoded cylindrical laws of Cyrus
The unseen has now been seen – running upon a wall
Place the ladder beside a wall
Bring out the trees in the heart
Bring out the heart in the psyche
Forgotten in the garden light-years away
Bring out the ladders built of light-years
One filament of ornamental air encoded within a supposed entity
Transmitting hunger
Hail the laws of Cyrus!
Laws made of ladders reach into star-cycles
A juror concealed within valves of light
Whistles alarm sound-song sharp as a needle
Revealing
A supposed entity carries forward the encoded cylindrical laws of Cyrus
The unseen has now been seen – moving its lips
On TV – remember TV?
One filament of ornamental air encoded within a supposed entity
Transmitting
The unseen remember justice
Ten by ten the innocent fall
In a garden light-years away
A supposed entity
Chanting
Bring out the nets braided with theory
And theories built of ladders
Hail the laws of Cyrus!
A juror concealed within valves of light
Whistles alarm
Within a mound-like hill
Law encodes a star-cycle of justice
One by one the guilty await
A supposed entity
Carries forward the encoded cylindrical laws of Cyrus
Chanting
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I juxtaposed stills from the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) with stills from a televised theatrical production of Twelve Angry Men (1954). I used the copyrighted images under fair play provisions for educational or commentary (& non-profit) purposes.
poemimage 
“braided with theory” These gems fuel me up.
~H
Thank you Heather. I appreciate hearing this.
Hey Steve. Just love your Bring out the Trees. It’s cutting edge, incisive
Thank you Joe for your visit and comment. I posted the poem in first draft then spent a couple days editing it ‘in real time.’ I’m pretty sure you saw the final version.
Just Gone through some of your other material tonight including the films you posted in 2010 and 2011. Each one is an artistic gem, though the one that gripped me most was “This Story is Not My Own” You know, your blending of the kinetic with deep shadows reminds me of the short films of Maya Deren made back in the 40s and 50s or thereabouts. There is something about art that pays close attention to movement, overt dance, or the subtle choreography involved in the plain everyday movements of bodies, that appeals to me. I think here of a photograph that a friend of mine did back in the 1980s. It’s a black and white shot of a group of teenagers tearing up a hill at concentrated speed with a coffin on their shoulders. Everything about the light and shade that forms their bodies in brisk projection suggests the vigour that death, anger, and grief, bring to them. Darkness and tragedy are aspects of being that arouse souls to dance, and it seems to me, that “This Story is Not My Own” does exactly. So long for now.
Joe
Thank you for your time investigating this work Joe, and your insights. ‘Blending of the kinetic with deep shadows’ is quite an artful phrase standing on its own. I was fortunate to work with talented people on these projects and in particular ‘My Story is Not My Own’ because of the amount of time and energy it I/we put into it. There was a lot of beautiful footage (camera – Eric Gerrard brilliantly composing and filming) – I had so many choices pouring over footage for moments to present to the editor. I find Maya Deren’s work to be an astonishing combination of both surreal and symbolic in a mythological sense…..even to be mentioned in the same breath as her I feel honoured & to think perhaps we touched on that territory…The photograph your friend took of the teenagers sounds highly impactful. Beautiful also and magnificent. I can imagine it and feel it. It sounds both documentary-ish and wild. I love your description of it. There is darkness and tragedy in My Story is Not My Own…and thank you for connecting it to the feeling of when souls’ dance. I’m deeply appreciative of your generosity and these intertwined thoughts. All best, Steve