poemimage

The visual & the poetic.

A Bridge Out of Limbo

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& When you think of who you are,

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The deep waters rising about you, within you,

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& Within you, who you are, symbols embedded within & upon a book of code,

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Like a stamp or seal upon a document, & you swim through the hollow and the false,

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Bearing metaphorical code,

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& When you think of who you are and what you have delivered, you realize

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The brave are still within us,

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& Your metaphor is reality, holding fast to your sense of balance, carrying out your mission,

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& You never venture from your footing upon this precipice,

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& your children walk upon dry land.

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U.S. Naval Archives Photo # 80-G-238786: USS San Jacinto steaming with USS Lexington in the Mariana (Islands) area, 13 June 1944.

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My father was on active duty aboard the San Jacinto (foreground aircraft carrier) when this photo was taken. I remember him as a young man, remembering also transferred memories… physical and emotional, memories flowing like water. I was thinking about DNA as well as the memory within, and of, water. In the back of my mind I was thinking about Berta Cáceres. The work she did with water. Her radiant identification with Mother Earth, the Mothership, and the water running through Her veins.

Berta Caceres stands at the Gualcarque River in the Rio Blanco region of western Honduras where she, COPINH (the Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras) and the people of Rio Blanco have maintained a two year struggle to halt construction on the Agua Zarca Hydroelectric project, that poses grave threats to local environment, river and indigenous Lenca people from the region.green ball 6green ball 6green ball 6

I Knew It Was Over

car with border

I knew it was over

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When she came home

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From work

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And said

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There’s a spoon

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In the sink.

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Images: Photographic still from director Nicholas Ray’s They Live By Night (1949), starring Farley Granger and Cathy O’Donnell and a detail from Piet Mondrian’s (1943) Broadway Boogie Woogie. 

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Marilyn Monroe reading James Joyce in a Public Park: Druidic and Bardic Powers of Enchantment (Text by Tina Fields & Photo by Eve Arnold)

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Inspired poetry, regarded as a vital skill of the pagan Celtic seer, fits in with the shamanistic tenet that one must bring back any information gained from the Otherworlds to benefit the people.

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One challenge to this is that visions wildly pouring forth while in deep trance can easily be forgotten during the return to ordinary waking consciousness.

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They are much more likely to be retained and recalled for later use when placed in some sort of pattern which the cognitive mind can hold onto.

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Through the uses of rhyme, alliteration, meter, repetition and tune to this end, the crafts of music and poetry became intimately connected with magical practice and otherworldly power and knowledge in the Celtic world.

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Besides voicing deep and otherwise hidden wisdom gained while in an altered state, bards used sound to harm, heal, and alter moods and probability.

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Poetry and music were not considered beaux-arts to the pagan Celts, but tools of raw magical power.

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Scorching satirical poetry known as the briarmon smetrach was intended to ‘puncture’ and to publicly destroy reputations.

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Well-aimed, the poetic form known as glam dicin was used to drive out rats and to disfigure or even kill an opponent.

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The Irish cattle-rustling epic Tain bo Cualgne describes the bardic warfare employed by Queen Medb against her enemy Fer Diad:

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Then Medb sent the Druids and satirists and harsh bards for Fer Diad, that they might make against him three satires to stay him and three lampoons, and that they might raise on his face three blisters, shame, blemish and disgrace, so that he might die before the end of nine days if he did not succumb at once (Kinsella 1969).

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Bardic incantations could also be used to end hostilities. Diodorus Siculus observed this magical use of sound in the late 1st-century B.C.E.:

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Frequently when armies confront one another in line of battle with swords drawn and spears thrust forward, these men intervene and cause them to stop, just as though they were holding some wild animal spellbound with their chanting. (Diodorus Siculus 31, 2-5, as cited in Ireland, p. 181).

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Tacitus describes the effect of this weaving of enchantment against Roman invaders on the Isle of Mona in 60 A.D.:

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On the shore stood the opposing army with its dense array of armed warriors, while between the ranks dashed women in black attire round the Druids, lifting up their hands to heaven and pouring forth dreadful imprecations, scared our soldiers by the unfamiliar sight so that, as if their limbs were paralyzed, they stood motionless and exposed to wounds. (Tacitus, AnnalsXIV, 30)

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Finally, bardic powers could also be used to heal – as when a master harper restored speech to the dumb prince Maon through his music.

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The small harp was often employed by bards as a magical tool.

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Part of the Celtic harper’s toolkit was working knowledge of the Adbhan Trireach or ‘Three Noble Strains,’ attributed to the chants for childbirth sung by the god/spirit Dagda’s harp Uaithne.

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Each Strain was not only entertainment but a form of enchantment: ‘Sorrow-‘ or ‘Lament-Strain’, which could reduce listeners to tears; ‘Joy-Strain’, which could turn tears to laughter; and ‘Sleep-Strain’, which could soothe listeners’ hearts into deep sleep.

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Gaining songs of power from spirits is a common element occurring in many shamanistic cultures.

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 Text above from the section Druidic and Bardic Powers of Enchantment in Celtic Shamanism: Pagan Celtic Spirituality by Tina Fields, Ph.D https://indigenize.wordpress.com/about/spiritual-ecopsychology/celtic-shamanism/

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My digital manipulation of source material is intended for purposes of commentary & creative pastiche/creating a new work incorporated with original art & based upon Marilyn Monroe Reading Ulysses, Long Island, New York, 1954. Photo by Eve Arnold.

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Original photo by Eve Arnold as well as information about Marilyn Monroe’s reading habits and book collection can be found at http://www.booktryst.com/2010/10/marilyn-monroe-avid-reader-writer-book.html

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Morning Morning by Tuli Kupferberg

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Morning morning
Feel so lonesome in the morning
Morning morning
Morning brings me grief

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Sunshine and the sunshine
Sunshine laughs upon my face
& the glory of the growing
Puts me in my rotting place

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Evening evening
Feel so lonesome in the evening
Evening evening
Evening brings me grief

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Moon shine moon shine
Moon shine drugs the hills with grace
& the secret of the shining
Seeks to break my simple face

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Nighttime nighttime
Kills the blood upon my cheek
Nighttime nighttime
Does not bring me to relief

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Starshine and the starshine
Feel so loving in the starshine
Starshine starshine
Darling kiss me as I weep

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Morning Morning written by Tuli Kuferberg & recorded by The Fugs on their album The Fugs.

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The Fugs (1966) is the second album from The Fugs.

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http://www.thefugs.com/history2.html

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The link above will take you to the song.

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I make no claim whatsoever to these lyrics, whose copyright, I assume, remains with the author & Fugs founding member, the late Tuli Kupferberg. I simply wish to share these beautiful words & music.

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Lyrics found at Lyrics.com as submitted by jinny.

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If Yeats Was a Bicycle

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Not Duchamp…

2 again

Not Gertrude Stein…

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Not cave art…

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Not Klee…

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Not Mary Poppins…

1 again

Not Yeats.

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Well…possibly. With one of his gyres. Formulating A Vision.

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http://www.yeatsvision.com/yeats.html

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A Quote by Hermann Hesse & Spirals Rising Above the Street Once Laid Upon a Syrian City

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“I have no right to call myself one who knows.

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 I was one who seeks,

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 and I still am,

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 but I no longer seek in the stars or in books;

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 I’m beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me.

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My story isn’t pleasant,

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it’s not sweet and harmonious like the invented stories;

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 it tastes of folly and bewilderment,

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of madness and dream,

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like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.”

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― Hermann Hesse, Demian: Die Geschichte von Emil Sinclairs Jugend

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I digitally reconfigured Syrian street photos (from happier times) for non-commercial artistic purposes, photographed by Vatse: http://www.skyscrapercity.com/showthread.php?s=62af56d2f3036c7b81759a06c26b1f1d&t=993201

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One might intuitively connect seemingly disparate elements, only later discovering threads of DNA sound (or something) opening further into a parallel, related world. For example, Hesse & Syria:

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hermann_Gundert

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malayalam_literature

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Thomas_Christians

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overhang

How We Listened

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Have you forgotten how we listened

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to what was not being said.

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The sun and the night both shining in Autumn.

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Shining upon what is concealed

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& beneath the crossroads,

this is not d

a deeply buried wind

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streaming through the empty house.

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Dedicated to my (late) brother Larry, whose birthday is 2/22, who cried over his black fish floating belly up, who slipped climbing the crabapple tree & gashed his belly open with a nail. We passed through the cage of black & white TV broadcasting one Friday late into the night and throughout the weekend until a funeral on Monday.

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My video poem concerning this event: https://vimeo.com/11304739

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I think I found the spiral Xray online a couple of years ago. Of course , neither am I claiming any copyright credit for the photographs of J.F.K.’s funeral. A detail from a still photo of a performer riding a horse in my video poem is also in the mix. I will take some credit for that.

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Mona Ono / Yoko Lisa

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Leonardo da Vinci
sits at the piano
composing
‘Imagine’

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A Divining Rod of Ancient Silver Divining Twin Streams

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining the outlines of the future

Chejesus

A divining rod of ancient silver divining channels between flowers

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining the stone wheel of memory

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining the wind upon the fields

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining the moons beneath the city

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining the roots of wisdom fruit

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining sea and Self, an ongoing dialogue between sea and Self

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining social collapse

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A divining rod of ancient silver divining twin streams:

Pottery: the Jomon (縄文) Period (Japan, c. 12,000-300 BCE) and William Blake (1794) England.

Religious calendar art showing Jesus with children and the iconographic image of Cuban revolutionary Che Guevera.

Many years ago I did a printmaking project in an elementary school. One of the students made a print of (what I thought was) a Central or South American religious deity. I was intrigued with the clay pots or possibly drums. Then I realized I was looking at it upside down. How odd such a cartoon, reversed, depicts an altogether different creature. Nothing about the ‘accidental’ image reflected the student’s cultural heritage.

Photographic still from the B movie ‘Plan 9 from Outer Space.’ And the Pietà, Michelangelo’s great work, in St. Peter’s Basilica.

Angelus Novus by Swiss-German artist Paul Klee & the exquisite Donna Summer modelling a gown.

A painting by Giotto and a photograph of the parachuting Russian pilot whose jet was shot down by Turkey. Photographed before being shot, as he floated to earth, by terrorists allied with Turkey.

Digital configuration of Blake’s art + Jomon pottery.

Neil Armstrong Apollo 11 spacesuit & the Shroud of Turin.

Goldfish and residential street in Toronto.

Sugar by Sheila Stewart

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1.
Dust rises off the hot low veldt.  Vast sugarcane estates: the only irrigated
land.   Wide lush green fields sprout a million tiny sprinklers. The cane is
ready, burnt to make it easier to cut. Flame sweeps the fields, fierce as a
forest fire. The air black soot, a flurry of ash falls miles away, drifts in
doorways, a line of soot runs across the table in our classroom Monday
morning, mirroring the crack in the roof’s peak.

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2.
How I love a dusting of sugar over a slab of chocolate cake, a script of
raspberry sauce.

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3.
Give me brown sugar, white sugar, cubes and icing sugar, caster sugar,
sugar daddy, sugar mummy, sugar baby, sugar bear, sugar-beet, sugar
bowl, sugared and sugary, sugar plum fairy, Shake Sugaree.

avery

4.
Long, open cane trucks, chains along the sides, drive past the auto-
wreck’s Jesus is Coming, into the refugee settlement, collect workers
early in the morning, return them dirty, tired at day’s end. The cane cutters
earn a little more, dressed in layers for protection, sooty as chimney
sweeps. Our students tell us, Cane can cut you. Snake can get you in the
cane.  

spoon sum

5.
Monthly rations: maize, beans, salt, sometimes dried fish, and a little
sugar.

suncube

6.
One more lump of sugar, please.

kandinsky

7.
Simon learned English fast: homeland, refugee, truck. Hot and cold. Love
and hate. Past, present, future.
Simon cut cane. He told us of his last trip
on the back of a cane truck. Returning to the settlement one black night,
the truck broke down at the side of the road. People got out, lay down and slept, waiting for another truck. Simon watched a lorry full of oranges
crash into the cane truck, knocking it over onto the sleeping workers,
pinning the dead and injured to the ground. The sugary smell of oranges
but none to eat. The truck carried on, cutting through the night taking the oranges safely to Durban.

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Sheila Stewart has two poetry collections, The Shape of a Throat (Signature Editions) and A Hat to Stop a Train (Wolsak and Wynn). She co-edited The Art of Poetic Inquiry (Backalong Books). Sheila’s poetry has been recognized by such awards as the gritLIT Contest, the Pottersfield Portfolio Short Poem Contest, and the Scarborough Arts Council Windows on Words Award. She teaches in Equity Studies, Women and Gender Studies, and the Writing Centre at New College, University of Toronto. ‘Sugar’ is from The Shape of a Throat.

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