jazz – a frictionless universe

December 21, 2009 at 4:00 pm | Posted in australian poetry, contemporary poetry, poetry, senti-mentality, writing | 28 Comments
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I couldn’t disentangle the fight. I kept losing track of whether I was fighting for me or for people like me. But it turns out those two things are always the same. There were times when it was pure survival of my individual ego, but the context, the reason I was there and doing it, was very simple.

It was for creatures like me. We longed for a world in which this was not necessary but could not create one. The pressure from outside, the rapidly reducing resources as the forest fell and was churned into hamburger insistently required response.

Waking at dawn to the sound of leaf-blowers destroying the micro-ecosystem for no reason at all. Suburban tanks driven six blocks with one person in them. Every year less rain.

the eye will add images each further from the thought
there is only one soul and we are manifestations of it
passes through us radiant

over and again in the poems, the old man with his arm around his son looking up at the stars, different every time though, so each is unique. The weight of opinion is irrelevant and every one is equal. It’s like a series of Ned Kelly paintings, the eyes looking out from the desert a thought projected through the characters, through the observatory, fractures like light through language, save draft in which floats life

sense of place and uniqueness of time then someone says soul

raft the truth is indri
hear that existence it
self is a miracle we
rejoice in it

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  1. Really nice text, quite mystique.

    I imagine the seventies, flower power, no violence, no pollution, no artificial things.

    I guess Heraclitus was true we never bath twice in the same river, and whether we have a thought about the flow is completely irrelevant, vacuous. Remember the flow only when there is nothing to be remembered, that is the real memory.

    Why is the soul radiant? Shouldn’t it be at least concern with how things where evolving?

    One of the myths about the animal says ” a boy went into the forest to collect honey, was stung by bees, and fell from a tree. An Indri caught him and carried him to safety”, there are many other bur spotting rhe indry is always a nice sight
    Beautifull and full of hope was the verse poem for me.
    Take care Paul

  2. This is beautiful Paul, and brilliant, and inspiring. Thank you.

  3. beautiful like a garden. i thought for instance that they who discovered and knew the earth was round faced immense resistance. and so on. large populi have become impacted with what was once esoteric knowledge. those revelations may be beneficial spiritually but supersede basic laws of the material world. i mean how is it possible to ignore or patronize concerns regarding climactic changes etc and what that means to creaturedom and the ground beneath our feet except that the paradox of sense of spirit makes every material concern seem small. but soul, soul includes contains both the life and the sinews. and the shoes. imo.
    wonderful poem really got me charged, thanx

  4. wow Paul, i have goosebumps. seriously, i love this. one of my favourite pieces of yours, a masterpeace.

  5. hmmn if silence is consent guess I needn’t say anything…

  6. Superb! The title is amazing. Another one for the cork-board.

  7. This is a special one, Paul. I’ve been enjoying your recent work but this one really speaks to me.

    “The pressure from outside, the rapidly reducing resources as the forest fell and was churned into hamburger insistently required response.

    Waking at dawn to the sound of leaf-blowers destroying the micro-ecosystem for no reason at all. Suburban tanks driven six blocks with one person in them. Every year less rain.”

    Tell me about it.

    I love the double-agent ‘it’ in the three-line stanza following this too. The way the first three paragraphs segue into that stanza makes it glow for me.

  8. Absolutely, mind blowingly fantastic, ‘the eye will add images’, the tricks the mind plays to convince us we should accept. And the fight is one that everyone should be involved in yet very few stand when called to arms. Well done, Paul.

  9. I’d never imagined one could start from Quine and end with such a jazzy, free flowing composition…

  10. If each snowflake is unique and if perfection is found only in that uniqueness, then this is also true of a poem. This poem. This very inspired poem.

  11. Paul, this is my new favorite of your poems — shiversomely brilliant and beautiful and mind-blowing and soul-enlarging. I especially loved this: “there is only one soul and we are manifestations of it
    passes through us radiant”

  12. This is very powerful and moving, from resources churned into hamburger and awakening to leafblowers and suburban tanks and no rain and a man looking up at the stars with his son. Very visual in addition to your usual brilliance with rhythm and sound and meaning.

  13. The last 2 lines were icing on the cake…well done. 🙂

  14. Paul, my long lost friend! Your writing is ever powerful and beautiful, and I am reduced to tears by the fact that I have almost completely lost touch with my online circle of friends, albeit small, since the fuel that fired by blogging was left to fumes. We know the real value of friends only when we are left with none, and probably that is why the apocalyptic lives that humans are leading might just be of some use – one day we might value life more. One day we might actually be able to create that world in which none of that would be necessary.

  15. oh what a nice floating melody encrypted with so much wisdom.

  16. Would that leaves were collected from the sidewalks like treasures, that they were sometimes picked up and looked at and turned over and studied (and not for “science”). A whole world of intricately textured living things, and yet people lose the ability to see — or to know that they should see, that these are visions.

  17. My comment says Dec 25 and I realize I’m on Australia time. Merry Christmas, Australians. You have beat us to it again. It’s only Christmas eve here.

  18. awesome, Paul … *yes sigh* ..
    if people floated more maybe there’d be less fighting? i wonder what the cosmos was on when it thought “hey, what about …” but i love her anyway lol

  19. merry christmas, old man 🙂

  20. Merry Christmas as well, to my favourite poet in the cosmos.

  21. Merry Christmas and the best of the season to my fine friend from the land down under. I wish you old whiskey,fine cigars and great sex in the coming year. And if there’s any of that you don’t want, just send it my way. :o)

  22. Wow! I don’t know which line of yours to refer to..I’m amazed at how you manage gathering all these intuition-driven, washed-by-good-will reflections and wrap them so gently in your feelings and just sing it…

  23. hmmm jazz a few notes, a few breaths…now, were you standing in a long line and yr thoughts started to wonder on wings..or was it the buzz of the irritating leaf blower invading the peace of sunshine…everything changes nothing stays the same..is that part of a song i once heard…but yes, yes, the fight the fight for freedom to live as we imagine, the drudgery of a slow day and the realization of timeless time…as we blend together without borders and yet the desire to stay separate…can’t have it both ways…why not…this was good paul spoke to us all

  24. […] reference….thanks squires […]

  25. […] squires Possibly related posts: (automatically generated)“Un salon style Second […]

  26. oh oh oh this one brought me to my knees. Your writing is utterly breath-takingly beautiful and I need to come here and read you more often, you’re so prolific and I seem to be missing a lot lately, glad I didn’t miss this one. I just loved this. What a beautiful soul you are, to write from such a vantage point….

    “Waiter! I’ll have some of what he’s having, please!”

    My hat off to you.

  27. suburban tanks…leaf-blowers…the devil’s work!


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