In light of ‘the body electric’ in the poetry of Walt Whitman.
In light of the poetry of Walt Whitman.
In light of the body.
In light of the shadow.
In light of the shadow a question.
In deepest shadow The Leisure Class.
I have been approaching an idea I am still approaching
I circle the idea again and again
for some reason I made this comparison of eyes.
Eyes are truly the window to the soul
The soul is truly a window to the eyes
The window is truly eyes upon the soul.
I think of the glazier in Cocteau’s poetry-film Orphee wandering in the underworld.
I have the VHS tape rewound & worn, rewound & worn.
I may watch Orphee again one day. It reminds me of somebody.
My very own figure of death no longer mine.
In this comparison:
Burl Ives: Actor ~ musician ~ crouching fire-starter, lonely hero, feet of clay, masculine subject-object, middle name Ivanhoe, dancing round the Maypole, related to composer Charles Ives. In the heart is the first principle.
Mona Lisa: Mystery-school perception, the sun-drenched alchemical Renaissance, feminine subject-object, diagram the ancient golden number, echoing feet, touch linen ~ hazelnut paste, envision the Milky Way. In the heart is the first principle.
President: The conceptual zero imagined in three-dimensions, museums collapse beneath clouds funnelling stones, candy cigarettes, a camoflauged animal-skin eye-patch, mythological gods stir in vengeful coughing slumber. Envision the absent first principle.
I may watch Orphee again one day.
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