Here is the following poem, the poem following the Creeley one (from last post)--in my convoluted mind. From e.e. cummings' book No Thanks. Wonderfully titled, cummings being too much before his time had the manuscript rejected by Farrar & Rinehart, Simon & Schuster, ... Knopf, Dutton, Harper's, Scribner's, and many, many others. So the title is "No Thanks" and you open the books to see "To: Farrar & Rinehart,..." and all the other myopic editors and their employers. The poem here, "66" it might be called, or first lined "death(having lost)put on his universe" staggers me; and I suppose some who choose to do so can read it as a wager, with death and love, and opening with the punch line. (This was the primary poem that inspired me in eulogizing my nephew Daniel Ray Luna who, talk about dumb fucking luck, died before he started at 23--just about one year ago. An aside.) If it's a wager, here metaphorically death loses. In our waking wish fulfillment.
66
death(having lost)put on his universe
and yawned:it looks like rain
(they've played for timelessness
with chips of when)
that's yours;i guess
you'll have to loan me pain
to take the hearse,
see you again.
Love(having found)would up such pretty toys
as themselves could not know:
the earth tinily whirls;
while daisies grow
(and boys and girls
have whispered thus and so)
and boys with girls
to bed will go,
(Complete Poems, 1904-1962)
That, my friends, is a poem! Love and death in the lost and found; or, the wager between the two; what boys and girls will do, though "boys" and "girls" must be taken openly, inclusively here. (We'd lose half my family if not...;-) )
Enough from me. I'm off to lie on the table, and slide up and down--"Breath in" [PAUSE]....."Hold your breath"...[PAUSE] ... "You may now let out your breath"....[PAUSE, NOISE] "Breath in"..[PAUSE] ... "Hold your breath"...., belly filled with two quarts of the barium juice. And for those who haven't done it, don't believe the comments, the barium drink is pretty much as good/bad tasting as pepto or maylanta or any other chalky drink. It's a cake walk.
Too early to evaluate the day, but I'll say Franky Scale, 8, you get at least 8 points just for the cummings' poem.
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4 comments:
im here for you in spirit brother dear. all of my thoughts are hoping that it will be the best news ever - you were eloquent at dans funeral. the depth of love was so apparent. as his mom it gave me such peace. im loving you
This is the only 66 I know, but it's also the one song I can sing and play on the guitar at the same friggin' time!
Route 66
If you should chance to travel west,
Take my way, the highway that is best.
Get your kicks on Rt. 66.
It winds from Chicago to LA,
more than two thousand miles away.
Get your kicks on
Rt 66.
It goes from St. Louis, Joplin Missouri,
Oklahoma City is O so pretty;
you'll see Amarillo,
Gallup, New Mexico,
Flagstaff Arizona
don't forget Winona,
Kingman Barstow San Bernadino
Won't you
get hip to this timely tip,
when you make your California trip,
Get your kicks on Route 66.
Even if I had no idea at all who this "David" person was or couldn't see the user ID when comments are posted--this post, above, and the poetry-type response earlier on would have made it clear to me--there's no one else like this one. Only one "David". And thanks --Mr. Jones.
Brother Spot--
Hey there, you with that look in your eyes ... I'm liking the news so far. Will try and find you soon.
Lefty reminded me what a goof ball I am-- it's not cheebus and fries, but cheebus and rice. I can only hope no one else noticed the error.
I'm feeling pretty happy right now.
I like those smaller numbers.
Love, Sheri
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