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Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Room y = e to the x, cosh a

And every version seemed to me, peering over and into the austere glass and bossy case, of an equal, or similar merit, or wondrousness. Further: it was the totality as I felt this experience of reading and interpreting, and not understanding, was, for me. Later I realised that there was again here an example of constant process as 'poem' - and my encounter with it was part of an ongoing experience of a work - a work that for me in its endlessess
and its non beginning.
Later in
- at least in our minds - separate things out.
The stories I recalled most vividly were ones that involved near death, or were of a romantic nature, or were distressing, erotic, or joyful - the "ordinary" totality of existence of course is mostly forgotten by the mind and we see things in separate "blocks" but we are amid an ongoing roar of process.. molecular and existential boil of Being and causation and the burning torment of matter and the
agonised and joyful convulsions of life lived in
(albeit quantum
mechanical and multi vectorial) space
.......................the squirting joy of the act
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
A similar thing occurred for me when I once came across a book on how to write poetry by Michael Harlow and Ill Aanhire - these included some excellent creative writing exercises. Indeed I have probably used some of the ideas in that book in EYELIGHT and in some of my previous writings. But again my main interest was in Harlow's demonstration of the evolution of poem he had written. Again with many versions, "crossings out", changes, circlings, mysterious marks, squiggles, corrections - indeed, many 'Visions and revisions'.... all in arlow's emonstration of the evolution of his Oem.
But for me his poem began with the beginning of the Universe or the Multiverse - if it (they) has / have a beginning...
ere i ( are) a (ome), image(s) o the oem [ in ocess o evelopment] as it ere] an e (some o) accmpanying ext:


The "process"continued(or continues) until Harlow (and he goes through all this with the potential writer who is learning or interested in this procedure) (perhaps of many but typical of writers and their methods) has or had or may have had could have or did have the"perfect poem"; that he then sent off ) (
perhaps) to a p
ublisher (or he may have k
ept it in drawer or his back trouser pocket for some time: until showing, indeed revealing, it here in this "how to" book) and it was now ready to be p
ublished - and was [or is or
,nay fascinates, m

the leopards are strewn about the desert in a lazy terror

that only White can convey

the leopards are strewn about the desert in a lazy terror

So I "get angry"with it all!!

The finished poem as poem is good - really good. Harlow is a major poet in NZ - one of my favourite - but I am not interested just now in the poem's meaning (meaning is problematic in any case) interested here in the look of the totality of his work as worked through and I then transform it - as things constantly do in life - in fact I went "berserk" with it almost in trance or a fever, a kind of "creative rage" perhaps: creating a new "poem" or text as in the following image-poem-text-enactment: an implication of an infinite and progressive or degressive process ... I got very angry with it:

When he arrives
on his lips a small tattoo
The plumes of his pocket

almost a wonder

has signed

something else - buff -coloured signs are taken for wonders....

the leopards are strewn about the desert in a lazy terror

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