The Centuries Of Identical Light

[jon1jt]

Think of all the great cities sunk. As if anyone could
have spun the globe with his thumb and set it askew,
the people lifting their eyes to faces transposed on

the water. We couldn't hear them. The drowning
tenements, darkened conceits, the migrant workers'
sleepless selves who thought of their blushing women.

The wave of charred T-shirts like an American
voice. Smoke blurs their lungs and the breathing is
blown out in a thick fog. The land drifts into a landfill.

Only an albatross with glowing ribs can save them.
The ocean has its unstirred depths and still there
is faith in its dimensions. Somewhere between its black

and stars are songs. The historians come muscling
through the rafters and imagined catastrophes, these
cities borne out of time and not space. The prayer

sighs, the vigils, the crowds pressing toward the
center --The centuries of identical light.

[TheFifthElement]

I printed this off this morning and came back to it. I really like this Jon - there are so many great lines here, and a sense of...something, unreachable, unsaid. I loved this :


the people lifting their eyes to faces transposed on

the water. We couldn't hear them

and this :


The ocean has its unstirred depths and still there
is faith in its dimensions. Somewhere between its black

and stars are songs. The historians come muscling
through the rafters and imagined catastrophes, these
cities borne out of time and not space.

there is sadness, loss, something profound and inexpressible about it, I don't know.

The only part I wasn't quite sure about was this:


The wave of charred T-shirts like an American
voice. Smoke blurs their lungs and the breathing is
blown out in a thick fog.

not because there was anything particularly wrong with it, it just didn't seem to quite flow as the rest of the poem does. That being said I didn't like the poem any less because of it.

One I will read again, certainly.

[blp]

You're going through a fecund patch, jon, and it's all good.

[AuntShecky]

The only change I'd make is with the line breaks.

Some symbol the albatross. He's been turned a hundred and eighty degrees since the Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

I liked the contemporary sociological/technological significance of this piece. Or am I reading too much into it.

The words sound good.

[PrinceMyshkin]

The centuries of identical light.

Is a brilliant and provocative line!

[firefangled]

Jon, this hits hard. The amazing images just do not let up. I am most fond of territory of the songs, between the black depths of ocean and the stars...

I kept flashing to A Clockwork Orange and the Wasteland and I do believe this is equal to both.

[blp]

I kept flashing to A Clockwork Orange and the Wasteland and I do believe this is equal to both.

:eek: easy there, firefangled.

[jon1jt]

:eek: easy there, firefangled.


:lol: :lol: BLP: Firefang comparing this piece to Wasteland and ClockWork Orange (and..ahem my Jesus poem to Plath's Ariel...thank you very much. :D ) means either two things: he wrote the review after returning from a Christmas Party having one too many scotch or he's absolutely right and my writing is breaking new ground that even I'm unaware of. :lol: I think he is being very gracious, and I'm forever my own worst critic. Thank you, fire.

PRINCE: Thanks, wow, I'm glad you like that one. I felt it was the strongest line in the piece next to the first line, which I had considered as the title. It went from, 'Ages of returning light,' 'Days of mingling light,' and centuries of twin light. It brought to mind the World Trade Center's 'World of light' commemoration of Sept. 11 a couple years ago where from my old apartment I could see across the Hudson two light beams reaching into the night sky where the towers once stood.

AUNT SHECK: I played around with the line arrangement and settled on the three line grouping. I just thought it kept a steady pace, nothing fancy. As far as there being a socio-techno significance, it's there and it's not--I was so focused on getting the images of destruction and the personal, and what was never ours to share in in the first place. Thanks for reading.

FIFTH: As I read your comments I nod, yep, yes, that's it...wow, um hmm...

[Virgil]

I gave you my comments on your blog Jon. I too like it, mostly. I love that first sentence, one of your best. But I have qualms on the middle section, especially this line: "The wave of charred T-shirts like an American/voice." Perhaps there is some meaning to be gleamed from it that I can't get, but besides that, I can't even begin to comprehend the metaphor/imagery (the wave of charred T-shirts?) or even the simile, "like an American voice"? I can't pull anything out of that. Perhaps someone can explain it to me. And the image of "albatross with glowing ribs" while rather striking seems grotesque and again undecipherable. But I do like the conclusion very much:

...The historians come muscling
through the rafters and imagined catastrophes, these
cities borne out of time and not space. The prayer

sighs, the vigils, the crowds pressing toward the
center --The centuries of identical light.
That is very strong.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I gave you my comments on your blog Jon. I too like it, mostly. I love that first sentence, one of your best. But I have qualms on the middle section, especially this line: "The wave of charred T-shirts like an American/voice." Perhaps there is some meaning to be gleamed from it that I can't get, but besides that, I can't even begin to comprehend the metaphor/imagery (the wave of charred T-shirts?) or even the simile, "like an American voice"? I can't pull anything out of that. Perhaps someone can explain it to me. And the image of "albatross with glowing ribs" while rather striking seems grotesque and again undecipherable.

I agree with you re the indecipherable images. Much of Jon's poetry seems to me like a smorgasbord in search of a theme: some Kerouac, Une saison en enfers, some gangsta rap...

[jon1jt]

I agree with you re the indecipherable images. Much of Jon's poetry seems to me like a smorgasbord in search of a theme: some Kerouac, Une saison en enfers, some gangsta rap...

Wow, excellent feedback, thanks!!

I think the beauty of poetry is that it does not have to yield to a theme, no?

Anne Stevenson speaks about the indecipherable regarding Yeats' poetry:

"The power of lines can never be explained by metrical analysis or by counting end-rhyme and any..."meaning" a conscientious critic or teacher might tease out of them at such a time would be superfluous.

The best poetry---great poetry---happens when sound, rhythm, and image bring about a mysterious feeling of wholeness that somehow draws mind, body, and spirit together...Language, like the mind, consists of a conscious and unconscious element...the hidden music we are all born hearing but lose as we grow up...The mind of the poet encompasses multiple contradictions. "



The wave of charred shirts like an American voice

Regarding the indecipherability of the line above, I take you to the line of Whitman that inspired it, perhaps equally indecipherable (?):

This is the tasteless water of souls

[Etienne]

Well indecipherability is alright to some extent, but it does have to evoke something. Also I think the line "This is the tasteless water of souls" is decipherable quite easily, although I don't know in the context. Also the word "T-shirt" hurts ear and eye when you read it. But again, I'm not a great poet myself, I'm giving you my opinion as a reader only.

"The beauty of poetry, for me, is that it does not have to yield to a theme.

Anne Stevenson speaks about the indecipherable regarding Yeats' poetry:"

This, in itself, is a theme. I like to think about "themes" as coherence, and coherence is in itself some harmony. Beauty is partly coherence, coherence is not necessarily strict rules, but harmony in a very flexible (or strict) way.

[Virgil]

Anne Stevenson speaks about the indecipherable regarding Yeats' poetry:

"The power of lines can never be explained by metrical analysis or by counting end-rhyme and any..."meaning" a conscientious critic or teacher might tease out of them at such a time would be superfluous.

The best poetry---great poetry---happens when sound, rhythm, and image bring about a mysterious feeling of wholeness that somehow draws mind, body, and spirit together...Language, like the mind, consists of a conscious and unconscious element...the hidden music we are all born hearing but lose as we grow up...The mind of the poet encompasses multiple contradictions. "


I don't know who Ann Stevenson is, but I find Yeats quite decipherable. I may not understand an allusion, but logic of the sentences are not inpenetrable. His poems are quite classical in the sense that everything does coordinate around a theme. I'm sure you had something in mind with that line, but unless we're missing something it doesn't seem to work. I think you may have pushed the metaphor too far and then you burdened even further with the simile.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Wow, excellent feedback, thanks!!

Your humility does you credit! It can hardly have escaped your notice that my smorgasbord reference was not entirely one of appreciation.


I think the beauty of poetry is that it does not have to yield to a theme, no?

Indeed the beauty of the deepest poetry is that it will not yield to a simplistic theme, but rather to an intuited one, beneath the level of conscious, workaday logic. The "beauty" of not yielding to any theme whatsoever - overt or intuited - might more properly be applied to deranged ranting.

Anne Stevenson speaks about the indecipherable regarding Yeats' poetry:

"The power of lines can never be explained by metrical analysis or by counting end-rhyme and any..."meaning" a conscientious critic or teacher might tease out of them at such a time would be superfluous.

The best poetry---great poetry---happens when sound, rhythm, and image bring about a mysterious feeling of wholeness that somehow draws mind, body, and spirit together...Language, like the mind, consists of a conscious and unconscious element...the hidden music we are all born hearing but lose as we grow up...The mind of the poet encompasses multiple contradictions. "[/QUOTE]

Ergo, a theme - albeit, again, one that is not laid out like a dinner service.





Regarding the indecipherability of the line above, I take you to the line of Whitman that inspired it, perhaps equally indecipherable (?):

This is the tasteless water of souls

You mean to equate the Whitman with your charred T-shirts? It seems a very considerable stretch.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I don't know who Ann Stevenson is, but I find Yeats quite decipherable. I may not understand an allusion, but logic of the sentences are not inpenetrable. His poems are quite classical in the sense that everything does coordinate around a theme. I'm sure you had something in mind with that line, but unless we're missing something it doesn't seem to work. I think you may have pushed the metaphor too far and then you burdened even further with the simile.

Agreed. I for one would be interested to hear which of Yeats' poems Jon considers to be "indecipherable" or without a theme.

[Virgil]

Agreed. I for one would be interested to hear which of Yeats' poems Jon considers to be "indecipherable" or without a theme.

:lol: Are we ganging up on him this time. :D

[jon1jt]

Well indecipherability is alright to some extent, but it does have to evoke something. Also I think the line "This is the tasteless water of souls" is decipherable quite easily, although I don't know in the context. Also the word "T-shirt" hurts ear and eye when you read it. But again, I'm not a great poet myself, I'm giving you my opinion as a reader only.

"The beauty of poetry, for me, is that it does not have to yield to a theme.

Anne Stevenson speaks about the indecipherable regarding Yeats' poetry:"

This, in itself, is a theme. I like to think about "themes" as coherence, and coherence is in itself some harmony. Beauty is partly coherence, coherence is not necessarily strict rules, but harmony in a very flexible (or strict) way.


beauty of poetry, for me, is that it does not have to yield to a theme. Anne Stevenson speaks about the indecipherable regarding Yeats' poetry:" This, in itself, is a theme.

??? What are you saying?, My reference to Stevenson is a theme, so what? I wasn't writing poetry. Are you going deconstruction on me?



I don't know who Ann Stevenson is, but I find Yeats quite decipherable. I may not understand an allusion, but logic of the sentences are not inpenetrable. His poems are quite classical in the sense that everything does coordinate around a theme. I'm sure you had something in mind with that line, but unless we're missing something it doesn't seem to work. I think you may have pushed the metaphor too far and then you burdened even further with the simile.

Virge, that poem she was critiquing was Lapis Lazuli. It didn't seem so esoteric to me either, the part she was referencing, but I haven't read the entire thing, so I don't really know. I haven't read any Yeats, maybe someday.

Virge, I'm curious, forget about my poem for a minute. When you hear the term, 'American voice,' what image comes to mind, if any? The NJ public school system used a textbook called 'American Voices.' What subject do you suppose it was used for?



our humility does you credit! It can hardly have escaped your notice that my smorgasbord reference was not entirely one of appreciation. What I mean is the sense in which a critical/negative review may disclose something about my own poetry, and that's a good thing for me.

But why do you suppose that my knowing you don't like it is not actually an appreciation? Can i not learn from those who dislike as much as from those who enjoy my poetry? ;)



The "beauty" of not yielding to any theme whatsoever - overt or intuited - might more properly be applied to deranhed ranting.

Prince, like I've said before regarding your poetry and mine, this notion of "beauty" and theme is where you and I go our separate ways. We begin from very different foundations, and so we're the better for it. ;)


Agreed. I for one would be interested to hear which of Yeats' poems Jon considers to be "indecipherable" or without a theme.

Anne Stevenson said it was indecipherable, not I. Refer to my original quote of hers.

[Virgil]

[QUOTE=jon1jt;489448 Virge, I'm curious, forget about my poem for a minute. When you hear the term, 'American voice,' what image comes to mind, if any? The NJ public school system used a textbook called 'American Voices.' What subject do you suppose it was used for?
[/QUOTE]

I think of an American literature textbook.

[jon1jt]

I think of an American literature textbook.

And what image, if any, came to mind when you came to that last line of my poem,

---centuries of identical light

or more specifically, did you see any connection, perhaps loosely so, between 'American voice' and that line?

[jon1jt]

:lol: Are we ganging up on him this time. :D

History will absolve me. :D As will my darlings who loved this poem. :p

[Virgil]

And what image, if any, came to mind when you came to that last line of my poem,

---centuries of identical light


I can't say any particuar image comes to mind. From the last lines I took it as a city scene, a current city that will join the cities sunk in history.



or more specifically, did you see any connection, perhaps loosely so, between 'American voice' and that line?
Loosely I assumed it was an American city, New York was the image I had.

Actually the reference to the landfill made me think of Staten Island. :lol: We had that famous landfill, the largest in the world I think until it was closed down a few years ago. Few years? It must be almost ten years now. And that Albatross made me think of the seagulls that used to fly over the dump. :D In your version it kind of got zapped with radiation. :lol:

[Etienne]

??? What are you saying?, My reference to Stevenson is a theme, so what? I wasn't writing poetry. Are you going deconstruction on me?


No, the "concept" (for lack of a better word...) you are referring to by quoting these lines is a theme.

[jon1jt]

:p
I can't say any particuar image comes to mind. From the last lines I took it as a city scene, a current city that will join the cities sunk in history.



Loosely I assumed it was an American city, New York was the image I had.

Actually the reference to the landfill made me think of Staten Island. :lol: We had that famous landfill, the largest in the world I think until it was closed down a few years ago. Few years? It must be almost ten years now. And that Albatross made me think of the seagulls that used to fly over the dump. :D In your version it kind of got zapped with radiation. :lol:

Yes!!! the abatross would come back from the sea defective in my poem, that's my spin on friend Coleridge, still though retaining his omen of goodness! :lol: Ah, I love that Mariner poem.

Yeah I remember all the hoopla over that landfill closing. They all moved to Jersey. :D

[jon1jt]

No, the "concept" (for lack of a better word...) you are referring to by quoting these lines is a theme.

How does a concept (?) become a theme? The concept I'm referring to dealt with the appreciation of a poem in itself, and that requires a foregoing of the micro-critical mind, where single lines become part and parcel of a cosmic Event. :D

[PrinceMyshkin]

History will absolve me. :D As will my darlings who loved this poem. :p

That, of course, is what we pay our "darlings" the big bucks to do!

But if I might paraphrase Virgil, you might do better to heed even a bit of harsh criticism than all your adoring darlings!

[jon1jt]

That, of course, is what we pay our "darlings" the big bucks to do!

But if I might paraphrase Virgil, you might do better to heed even a bit of harsh criticism than all your adoring darlings!

You see, Prince, I wrote that line above just for you since I figured it would get your eyes rolling, and ta da! :lol: But seriously Prince, I don't get you---I thanked you for your feedback all ready, but there are going to be certain poems that one feels in one's bones that one knows works.

How about we settle our differences right here, right now: Let's you and me make a friendly BET since I gather your true feelings are that you sincerely don't think much of this poem. Okay, here goes, Mano e Mano. The bet, princey, is, if I get this poem published in a reputable journal and provide evidence of it's forthcoming publication, will you write 100 times in an open thread to be published on litnet that my darlings were right and you were wrong? And if you win, I will buy all of your published works - I've been told you have quite a collection - and will write a book report for each to be submitted in individual threads.

Seriously, Prince, what say you?

[SleepyWitch]

:confused:
I've read this poem several times now and I still don't get it.... I mean, it sounds interesting and I love "the centuries of identical light", but what are they?
probably it's only because I've got a cold and I feel as if my head was stuffed with cotton wool (which it probably is even when I don't have a cold).
it kinda reminds me of one of those documentaries on TV where scenes from different centuries are enacted and fade into on another, but you only get the image + some background music but not the actual noises and sounds of each scene. do you know what I mean
it kinda sounds as if all of these catastrophes are really the same or at least nothing new and if you only wait long enough they won't really matter. is that what you intended it to mean? :confused:

[PrinceMyshkin]

You see, Prince, I wrote that line above just for you since I figured it would get your eyes rolling, and ta da! :lol: But seriously Prince, I don't get you---I thanked you for your feedback all ready, but there are going to be certain poems that one feels in one's bones that one knows works.

How about we settle our differences right here, right now: Let's you and me make a friendly BET since I gather your true feelings are that you sincerely don't think much of this poem. Okay, here goes, Mano e Mano. The bet, princey, is, if I get this poem published in a reputable journal and provide evidence of it's forthcoming publication, will you write 100 times in an open thread to be published on litnet that my darlings were right and you were wrong? And if you win, I will buy all of your published works - I've been told you have quite a collection - and will write a book report for each to be submitted in individual threads.

Accepted, but you need not write reports on any of my published works. Indeed, I'd prefer that you not do so. As you observe elsewhere here, the value of assessments of one's work depends somewhat on who provides those assessments.


Seriously, Prince, what say you?

Fine, but might I ask you to desist from writing scurrilous PMs to friends of mine about my work, my alleged psychology - or my moustache!

[Sweets America]

Jesus! Jon and Prince, you sound like two little boys fighting in a playground. :D Who should I spank first? Eh?
As I said already, here is my opinion: I don't think anybody is right or wrong regarding the appreciation of poetry, or beauty, or any of those kinds of subjects. I think it is all a matter of sensibility, and each person is different regarding that. Maybe the solution would be the accept that people think or feel differently than you. This is not a big problem, you know. On the contrary. :) This is only the way I see things. Maybe I'm totally wrong, though.
Anyway.
I cannot really say anything about your poem, Jon, because I always have difficulty to understand your poetry. I can feel that I like it, but I cannot explain why, it is very strange. I feel the same way with Firefangled's poems sometimes.


Fine, but might I ask you to desist from writing scurrilous PMs to friends of mine about my work, my alleged psychology - or my moustache!
:lol: :lol: :lol: Do not worry, Jer, I like your moustache. Isn't it the most important?:D

[Etienne]

How does a concept (?) become a theme? The concept I'm referring to dealt with the appreciation of a poem in itself, and that requires a foregoing of the micro-critical mind, where single lines become part and parcel of a cosmic Event. :D

The appreciation is based on a "concept of appreciation", and by extension a theme. Why did you quote it if it was just to show an appreciation of a poem in itself? You were trying to link the "concept of appreciation" used to your poem. What I mean is that you can never escape "themes" as they are but words or categorization of familiarity between different things for intellectual organization purpose at best, they are not something in themselves. So trying to escape themes will only work where people stop thematizing which is the capacity of the individual only, not even convention can do anything about it.

But again, do whatever you want from what I tell you, I'm only telling you as sincere criticism as a reader who think there is value in this poem. Nothing more than that.

[jon1jt]

Accepted, but you need not write reports on any of my published works. Indeed, I'd prefer that you not do so. As you observe elsewhere here, the value of assessments of one's work depends somewhat on who provides those assessments.



Fine, but might I ask you to desist from writing scurrilous PMs to friends of mine about my work, my alleged psychology - or my moustache!


What is a bet without something being lost and gained? :D If you win, forget that I'm the one writing the reviews, consider the ROYALTIES on all your books! So it's only fair, I insist!

I'm interested in purchasing one of your novels, can you give me the website address for that or how I can purchase? I'm also looking forward to a poem from you on here, something new and not from 1992.

You must mean Friend, as it was one friend. Now as far as your psychology, etc., would you please listen to your Sweets, she's making a lot of sense. And in the end, Prince, all that matters is that she likes your moustache...and she does, see that! Nice points, sweets, thanks. :nod:


The appreciation is based on a "concept of appreciation", and by extension a theme. Why did you quote it if it was just to show an appreciation of a poem in itself? You were trying to link the "concept of appreciation" used to your poem. What I mean is that you can never escape "themes" as they are but words or categorization of familiarity between different things for intellectual organization purpose at best, they are not something in themselves. So trying to escape themes will only work where people stop thematizing which is the capacity of the individual only, not even convention can do anything about it.

But again, do whatever you want from what I tell you, I'm only telling you as sincere criticism as a reader who think there is value in this poem. Nothing more than that.

I appreciate your criticism, thanks. I quoted Stevenson to note that an authority of poetry believes that poems in themselves don't have to employ a theme to be appreciated. So, yes, I was applying the concept of appreciation for the case of non-thematic poetry in this critical mode of interpretation, NOT the actual experience of reading a poem---that is, first encounters. I don't see a contradiction in that. Many lose the first encounter because of that theme-seeking capacity, which is a covering of the doors of perception.

[PrinceMyshkin]

What is a bet without something being lost and gained? :D If you win, forget that I'm the one writing the reviews, consider the ROYALTIES on all your books! So it's only fair, I insist!

I'm interested in purchasing one of your novels, can you give me the website address for that or how I can purchase? I'm also looking forward to a poem from you on here, something new and not from 1992.

You must mean Friend, as it was one friend. Now as far as your psychology, etc., would you please listen to your Sweets, she's making a lot of sense. And in the end, Prince, all that matters is that she likes your moustache...and she does, see that! Nice points, sweets, thanks. :nod:

I'll be sending you a PM shortly. In the meantime I doubt that others on this site are finding our exchanges all that amusing. I'm not. Have the last public word by all means if you wish to. I've had mine.

[Sweets America]

You must mean Friend, as it was one friend. Now as far as your psychology, etc., would you please listen to your Sweets, she's making a lot of sense. And in the end, Prince, all that matters is that she likes your moustache...and she does, see that! Nice points, sweets, thanks.

Are you being ironic? :D
That is funny how you edited this part again and again, scratching your head to find the most striking sentence. :D :lol:
Please, let me give you a hug. You definitely deserve one. :)

[jon1jt]

Are you being ironic? :D
That is funny how you edited this part again and again, scratching your head to find the most striking sentence. :D :lol:
Please, let me give you a hug. You definitely deserve one. :)

I wasn't after glamour on this one, I was merely trying to find the right words to fly safely under the censor board radar, me lady. :D

[Sweets America]

I wasn't after glamour on this one, I was merely trying to find the right words to fly safely under the censor board radar, me lady. :D

Ehehehe, and you even say it... :D :lol:

[Caravaggio]

I desist from reading some threads over the weekend, and then this one coruscates in angry flashes of wit. You look away for a second and then there's a car wreck. The subject of criticism is one that I think is interesting and I have a lot to say and ask, but I shall refrain and only say this piece: surprise comes in all places.

[jon1jt]

I desist from reading some threads over the weekend, and then this one coruscates in angry flashes of wit. You look away for a second and then there's a car wreck. The subject of criticism is one that I think is interesting and I have a lot to say and ask, but I shall refrain and only say this piece: surprise comes in all places.

Enigmatic.

[white camellia]

I gave you my comments on your blog Jon. I too like it, mostly. I love that first sentence, one of your best. But I have qualms on the middle section, especially this line: "The wave of charred T-shirts like an American/voice." Perhaps there is some meaning to be gleamed from it that I can't get, but besides that, I can't even begin to comprehend the metaphor/imagery (the wave of charred T-shirts?) or even the simile, "like an American voice"? I can't pull anything out of that. Perhaps someone can explain it to me. And the image of "albatross with glowing ribs" while rather striking seems grotesque and again undecipherable.
Maybe this is relevant to the discussion:

At such a time it is of interest to look back over the past and discover something of what has been already accomplished in the way of poetic expression of mystical themes and feelings. The most essential part of mysticism cannot, of course, ever pass into expression, inasmuch as it consists in an experience which is in the most literal sense ineffable. The secret of the inmost sanctuary is not in danger of profanation, since none but those who penetrate into that sanctuary can understand it, and those even who penetrate find, on passing out again, that their lips are sealed by the sheer insufficiency of language as a medium for conveying the sense of their supreme adventure. The speech of every day has no terms for what they have seen and known, and least of all can they hope for adequate expression through the phrases and apparatus of logical reasoning. In despair of moulding the stubborn stuff of prose into a form that will even approximate to their need, many of them turn, therefore, to poetry as the medium which will convey least inadequately some hint of their experience. By the rhythm and the glamour of their verse, by its peculiar quality of suggesting infinitely more than it ever says directly, by its very elasticity, they struggle to give what hints they may of the Reality that is eternally underlying all things. And it is precisely through that rhythm and that glamour and the high enchantment of their writing that some rays gleam from the Light which is supernal...

[Virgil]

At such a time it is of interest to look back over the past and discover something of what has been already accomplished in the way of poetic expression of mystical themes and feelings. The most essential part of mysticism cannot, of course, ever pass into expression, inasmuch as it consists in an experience which is in the most literal sense ineffable. The secret of the inmost sanctuary is not in danger of profanation, since none but those who penetrate into that sanctuary can understand it, and those even who penetrate find, on passing out again, that their lips are sealed by the sheer insufficiency of language as a medium for conveying the sense of their supreme adventure. The speech of every day has no terms for what they have seen and known, and least of all can they hope for adequate expression through the phrases and apparatus of logical reasoning. In despair of moulding the stubborn stuff of prose into a form that will even approximate to their need, many of them turn, therefore, to poetry as the medium which will convey least inadequately some hint of their experience. By the rhythm and the glamour of their verse, by its peculiar quality of suggesting infinitely more than it ever says directly, by its very elasticity, they struggle to give what hints they may of the Reality that is eternally underlying all things. And it is precisely through that rhythm and that glamour and the high enchantment of their writing that some rays gleam from the Light which is supernal...

I understand that Camilia. There is a place for an indecipherable element. However, it has to fit within the context. Perhaps it does here, at least the albatross reference, time will tell. But the other phrase (the metaphor and simile) is really jarbled in my opinion.

[jon1jt]

I understand that Camilia. There is a place for an indecipherable element. However, it has to fit within the context. Perhaps it does here, at least the albatross reference, time will tell. But the other phrase (the metaphor and simile) is really jarbled in my opinion.

The wave of charred shirts,

Virge, I didn't write it as a metaphor, I wrote it as an event, something that had happened. Maybe the original line will help clarify:


[B]The people waving their charred T-shirts along the precipice...

[Niamh]

Think of all the great cities sunk. As if anyone could
have spun the globe with his thumb and set it askew,
the people lifting their eyes to faces transposed on

the water. We couldn't hear them. The drowning
tenements, darkened conceits, the migrant workers'
sleepless selves who thought of their blushing women.

The wave of charred T-shirts like an American
voice. Smoke blurs their lungs and the breathing is
blown out in a thick fog. The land drifts into a landfill.

Only an albatross with glowing ribs can save them.
The ocean has its unstirred depths and still there
is faith in its dimensions. Somewhere between its black

and stars are songs. The historians come muscling
through the rafters and imagined catastrophes, these
cities borne out of time and not space. The prayer

sighs, the vigils, the crowds pressing toward the
center --The centuries of identical light.

Wow Jon. This is such a striking poem. Best poem i've read on here in ages. Weldone to you!!!:thumbs_up

[Virgil]

This poem came to mind yesterday as I was reading a copy of Smithsonian Magazine. Here i am looking at the September 2007 issue and right on the cover is an Albatross. And then further down the page is the title of one of the articles '"I Remember Kerouac" (On The Road turs 50)'. Either you got the idea from this poem while reading that issue or you're psychic. ;)

[jon1jt]

This poem came to mind yesterday as I was reading a copy of Smithsonian Magazine. Here i am looking at the September 2007 issue and right on the cover is an Albatross. And then further down the page is the title of one of the articles '"I Remember Kerouac" (On The Road turs 50)'. Either you got the idea from this poem while reading that issue or you're psychic. ;)


:lol: :lol: I swear to you I haven't seen one of those Smithsonian Mags around in ages!! And you're telling me the Kerouac article title AND the albatross are on the cover??!! Chaos I tell you, chaos! :lol:

Seriously, that's spooky.

[Virgil]

:lol: :lol: I swear to you I haven't seen one of those Smithsonian Mags around in ages!! And you're telling me the Kerouac article title AND the albatross are on the cover??!! Chaos I tell you, chaos! :lol:

Seriously, that's spooky.

Yes, I'm being serious. You might like that article on Kerouac. It's written by some girl he went with back in 1957. She wrote a novel herself. Someone named Joyce Johnson. You can read about her here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Johnson. The link to the Smithsonian article doesn't work but some of the other links do.

[jon1jt]

Yes, I'm being serious. You might like that article on Kerouac. It's written by some girl he went with back in 1957. She wrote a novel herself. Someone named Joyce Johnson. You can read about her here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Johnson. The link to the Smithsonian article doesn't work but some of the other links do.

Oh wow that's awesome, I'm familiar with Joyce Johnson and read her exchange of letters with kerouac called "A Beat Love Affair." I'm going to check out that article, NOW! THANKS I OWE YA!!!!