Comments on: “As if I’m some sort of hopeless dimwit” http://hologrambooks.com/hologrambooksblog/index.php/2010/01/27/as-if-im-some-sort-of-hopeless-dimwit/ Everyday explorations into our extaordinary potential Fri, 30 Jul 2010 05:17:07 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0 By: Mary A. Mercker http://hologrambooks.com/hologrambooksblog/index.php/2010/01/27/as-if-im-some-sort-of-hopeless-dimwit/comment-page-1/#comment-930 Mary A. Mercker Sat, 30 Jan 2010 20:45:12 +0000 http://hologrambooks.com/hologrambooksblog/?p=1486#comment-930 I don't always have the time to pursue your leads as I'd like, so am greatly amused at the synchronicity (Casteneda: "the Active Side of Infinity/ MM: :the "Looniness")of this post - seems a good many of us are in a state of confusion very similar to your friend's. I think I think too much, see too many things, but am I really? I believe it is a symptom of the changes erupting beneath "life as usual". Reminds me of a poem I wrote in poetry class, years ago - students picked random words, and the instructor said, "Now make a poem of them." It came together for me like a ton of bricks, and earned me a lot of sideways glances, but it seems apropo here: A Chorus of Canaries (For the poets in Writing 216 class) Rare the poet who has not gazed into life's mirror and seen her intimate continuity gazing back with cocky self-assurance, not some fear-filled formless soul, but a bright canary feasting from bowl to bowl, singed and steeled by death's sharp scythe then rising to sing again. Only the brontosaurus without ears for song hunched and haunched, eating and eaten, has forever gone, a dumb country, a silence askew in a place unknown, a dirge once heard then lumbering, grumbling, passing on. Perhaps this was the Looniness, tongue-in-cheek, explaining itself? I don’t always have the time to pursue your leads as I’d like, so am greatly amused at the synchronicity (Casteneda: “the Active Side of Infinity/ MM: :the “Looniness”)of this post – seems a good many of us are in a state of confusion very similar to your friend’s. I think I think too much, see too many things, but am I really? I believe it is a symptom of the changes erupting beneath “life as usual”. Reminds me of a poem I wrote in poetry class, years ago – students picked random words, and the instructor said, “Now make a poem of them.”

It came together for me like a ton of bricks, and earned me a lot of sideways glances, but it seems apropo here:

A Chorus of Canaries
(For the poets in Writing 216 class)

Rare
the poet who
has not
gazed into
life’s mirror and seen her intimate continuity gazing back with cocky self-assurance, not some fear-filled formless soul, but a bright canary feasting from
bowl to bowl,
singed and
steeled
by death’s
sharp scythe
then rising to
sing again.

Only the brontosaurus without ears for song
hunched and haunched, eating and eaten,
has forever gone, a dumb country, a
silence askew in a place unknown,
a dirge once heard then
lumbering, grumbling,
passing on.

Perhaps this was the Looniness, tongue-in-cheek, explaining itself?

]]>