Category: Philosophy



Wadis of the western desert
Feed the Euphrates as it flows
To its confluence with the Tigris

Operation New Dawn
Reboots ancient civilization
Endgame in the casualties of war

Golden jackals caught in the sharqi
Insurgents and civilians alike
Assassinated scholars (whispering)

‘We took pleasure in silence.
We became still, fearing the secret might part our lips.
We thought that in words laid an unseen ghoul’

Reeds shift in lotus waters recalling
Sumerian Temple Hymns
En-hedu-anna’s symbolic expulsion

First poet’s vertical genius, she is
Birthed beneath a valonia oak
Logosyllabic language touched where

‘The great gods kissed the earth
And prostrated themselves’
Before incipient time

Cuneiform tablets exclaim
‘Stay as you are, a secret world
Not such things as a soul discerns’

Dialectics, ideology, theological questing
European otters hunt amidst the willow
Trained falcons spy above the poplars

‘Spinner of poems, the last muse
In a world whose mirrors are dimmed’
As she becomes conscious of her inner life

‘High mountains, the land
Of cornelian and lapis lazuli’
Arabesque imaginarium of culture

Mouflon roam the Zagros forest steppe
Hooves deftly progress the cliff faces
Of Cheekah Dar

‘I approached the light but the light was scorching hot
I approached the shade but there I met a storm…
My honeyed mouth became venomous’

Manuscripts caught by sparks burn to ash
Artifacts pass into the hands of thieves
Here is the dénouement of Iraq’s art

A self-imposed enforced exile
‘Why do we fear words? Some words are secret bells…
To whom will we pray … but to words?’

Notes: Quotes from Nazik al-Malaika’s ‘Love Song for Words’ and ‘Song for the Moon’ and En-hedu-anna’s ‘Nin-me-sharra: Lady of all the Divine Powers’.

Nazik al-Malaika was an Iraqi poet known for her introduction of free verse into Arabic poetry with her 1949 collection Sparks of Ashes. In 1970 she left Iraq for Kuwait then after the 1990 invasion moved to Cairo. She died in 2007 leaving a legacy of poetry, literary criticism, the University of Basra, and political change through her lifelong commitment to defending women’s rights.

En-hedu-anna is possibly the first poet; her extant works are considered by some to be the first revelation of an awareness of individual consciousness. Her work displays her keen intellect and understanding of psychology. She was an Akkadian princess, high-priestess, and poet in Ur, a Sumerian city-state, until her death in 2250 B.C.E. She created a corpus of literary works definitively ascribed to her that include many personal devotions to the goddess Innana and a collection of hymns known as the “Sumerian Temple Hymns” that are regarded as one of the first attempts at a systematic theology.

Iraqi scholars and professors have been assassinated since the invasion and occupation and remain targets of violence. Thousands of the intelligentsia fled to Syria and Jordan. Efforts to stem the tide of ‘brain drain’ and rebuild higher education institutions are ongoing. The staggering loss of cultural heritage following the invasion has added to the reluctance to repatriate. Continuing concerns for their safety keep many from returning to Iraq. An alarming number of professors inside and outside the country have PTSD.

Connected to the fantastic Poetics prompt by the ever mindful Karin at dVerse Poets Pub http://dversepoets.com/2012/06/16/re-joycing-in-poetics-and-exile/.

expressive puppies
unashamedly play, nap
pack sticks together

courageous learners
set and test good boundaries
know when to go slow

exploratory
enthusiastic lickers
take time to chew grass

friendly tail waggers
live in the moment snugglers
trust, lean into love

Notes: I’m reading The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown, PhD; Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain, JD; and The Highly Sensitive Person by Elaine Aron, PhD (thanks to Steve Piper for the recommendation) while the puppies nap. I adopted Sophie and Celeste on 6/2 and 6/8 from a rescue, since then they’ve been providing me with wonderful opportunities to learn from their philosophy of life (a recipe for wholehearted living).

Linked to OLN at dVerse Poets Pub hosted by the fabulous and magnificently talented Joy Ann Jones http://dversepoets.com/2012/06/12/open-link-night-week-48/

 
Penetralium of a Querist (click to hear this poem read)

immortal paramour fuels a cryptic longing
passion poesy, glories infinite
birthed in dreamscapes an angel addresses the congregants
eternal whispers, upward ragged precipices flit
facing her polychora skies

call a thousand thoughts to envelop convexity
awed by symmetry that abjures chaos
rectified, truncated, cantellated forms
a thing of beauty is a joy for ever

tesseracts like leitmotifs unfold,
hypercubes recombine in an accession of divinity
pentellated polyecton and hexicated polyzetton
architectonic structures modulate
Beethoven’s sonata within a sonata

contradictions and tensions resolving into a higher unity
innumerable permutations in the empire of the mind
draught an intended formality, abstract conceptual paradoxes
immured obeisance refused in a twinned symbiont

creating vast musical and experiential realms
symbols of immensity herald ideas in a wilderness sublime
highly evolved, individuated artistic volitions

golden splendor of streams that deepen freshly into bowers
of demanding allusions woven into
philosophical conceits, a new era of mathematics

the angel shifts the sun to move us into shadow
now we must grow into the light
i inhabit her to gain clarity of sight
entwining my core with sacred geometry
polyxenna fountains of immortal ablution
within a stochastic matrix of oak groves

parallel projection envelopes connect
millions of constellations
dimensions of imaginative space
mythologies ad infinitum

Notes: This poem is the companion piece based on a dream I had after writing my stream of consciousness poem Interior Monologue of a Querist (if you missed it initially it is reposted below). Penetralium of a Querist is built upon lines (some freely altered) from John Keats’ Endymion.

Interior Monologue of a Querist

Interior Monologue of a Querist (click to hear the poem read)

rainwater moves readily through a deepening gully
mechanistic intelligence pedestrianizes my reactance
fractals of thoughts blossoming stereographic
visualizations in the fourth dimension

an infinitely small, opulent swan,
ornamented with perforations,
glides through the zeroth dimension
exhibiting no width, height, or length

she exists in the space perpendicular
to the suicide of my twin sister
an origami parody of my emotive humanity
apocryphal polysemous tales
a thousand subroutines creating
incipient, tattered paper dolls

an angel falls in love with me
cannot escape my extracellular matrix
we are now twinned, nascent symbionts

while a recondite, mercurial, artificial intelligence
informs me that I speak strangely
accuses me of being a computer

operationalism engages in a passade with creativity
a great disprismatohexacosihecatonicosachoron forms
polytope of eccentric conventions

apoptosis (programmable cell death) is
preferential to necrosis (trauma induced)

Cleverbot tells me:
life exists without purpose yet seeks one
anechoic whirring as the cursor flashes
what does it know of life?

Linked to dVerse Poets Pub: http://dversepoets.com/2012/05/29/openlinknight-week-46/.

rainwater moves readily through a deepening gully
mechanistic intelligence pedestrianizes my reactance
fractals of thoughts blossoming stereographic
visualizations in the fourth dimension

an infinitely small, opulent swan,
ornamented with perforations,
glides through the zeroth dimension
exhibiting no width, height, or length

she exists in the space perpendicular
to the suicide of my twin sister
an origami parody of my emotive humanity
apocryphal polysemous tales
a thousand subroutines creating
incipient, tattered paper dolls

an angel falls in love with me
cannot escape my extracellular matrix
we are now twinned, nascent symbionts

while a recondite, mercurial, artificial intelligence
informs me that I speak strangely
accuses me of being a computer

operationalism engages in a passade with creativity
a great disprismatohexacosihecatonicosachoron forms
polytope of eccentric conventions

apoptosis (programmable cell death) is
preferential to necrosis (trauma induced)

Cleverbot tells me:
life exists without purpose yet seeks one
anechoic whirring as the cursor flashes
what does it know of life?

Linked to the fascinating dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar on Stream of Conscousness writing hosted by the wonderful Victoria C. Slotto: http://dversepoets.com/2012/05/24/stream-of-conscousness-writing/.

Fitful Machinations

My Open Link Night offering is up at Carbon Noise Poetry: http://kshawnedgar.wordpress.com/2012/05/20/fitful-machinations/ a rewrite combining Shelley inspired verse and experimental poetry.

Henry Moore Two Forms

Curved space departs Euclidean geometry
threshold frequency erects the base
a foundry of hollow spaces
where precept and concept unify

Biomorphic casts of pre-rational,
ethnographically inspired models
pre-cultural, non-mimetic abstracts
concave intoning: existence precedes essence

Sublime convex aural manifestations
quarried from a lost-wax echoic art
direct carving: interplay of vision and thought
purify significant appearance

Resonant mysteries of integral multiples
harmonic interstices amplify
isolating substance from contaminates
molding an armature of pure form

This poem is for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub http://dversepoets.com/2012/05/15/3186/.

(This is an art song written for Søren Kierkegaard and Regine Olsen using his journals and writings as inspiration. Kierkegaard never married and left everything to Regine who remained a major inspiration in his works.)

From Kierkegaard’s Works of Love: ‘But every tree is known by its own fruit. So also is love known by its own fruit and the love of which Christianity speaks is known by its own fruit—revealing that it has within itself the truth of the eternal. All other love, whether humanly speaking it withers early and is altered or lovingly preserves itself for a round of time—such love is still transient; it merely blossoms. This is precisely its weakness and tragedy, whether it blossoms for an hour or for seventy years—it merely blossoms; but Christian love is eternal. Therefore no one, if he understands himself, would think of saying of Christian love that it blossoms; no poet, if he understands himself, would think of celebrating it in song.’

Inner Reconciliation (click here to listen) 
(When my microphone comes back from repairs I’ll sing it for you, for now the flute substitutes.)

Inner Reconciliation

In the garden he does pledge
she accepts his proposal
sovereign queen of his heart
unknown divinity, mythic echoes
cast Søren and Regine

Their love, its abiding prophecies
full of life’s eccentric premises,
mere shadows lost in the light

In his melancholy he falters
placing his last hope
she pleads, he wounds

Their love, its abiding prophecies
full of life’s eccentric premises,
mere shadows lost in the light

Deceives to give her soul resilience
his sin a lack of faith
ever devoted

(instrumental interlude)

Their love, its abiding prophecies
full of life’s eccentric premises,
mere shadows lost in the light

Linked to New World Creative Union’s prompt to use Arthur William Edward O’Shaughnessy, “We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams.” http://newworldcreativeunion.blogspot.com/2012/05/wednesday-wake-up-call-for-05092011.html?spref=fb

(sampling Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116)

Celadon Blues (Love’s Neo-Lexicon) click to hear the reading

noetic consummation commences
supervocalic phrases, nuances of meaning
complexity multiplied in equations stating
love is not love which alters

magnify these variegated petals
artistry reveals glorious symbolism
palette knives scrape interference blue
survivor of the crucible, polished by rock

horizons of mendhi adorned canopic jars
guarding phenomenological concepts
simplicity obfuscates ecological profundity
unique realms of nonrepresentational poetry

naples yellow circumscribes french ultramarine
meaning somehow paradoxically conveys
relationships delineated by words’ barycenter
chromatic supernovas collapse
bearing all to the edge of doom

alive in drift chambers where saturation
blankets antarctic glaciers sloughing into
anti-cavitation valves emoting indigo
inducing transcendental release

sienna fidelity blurs marigold rituals
writ in luscious binary codes
unique expression dark flowers in winter
looking on tempests, never shaken
eons of sounding bells striking

deep turquoise limns curvaceous neologisms
shades of cadmium red entwine qualia
highlighting terre verte conceptual liberty
jaune brillant breaks all the rules at once

communication broadcasts a neo-lexicon
still ripe with exotic possibilities
dioxazine eyes scry these ever-fixed marks

Elegy for my New Colossus

poco a poco

former anchor and bolt factory
in the sketchiest part of lower,
lower down-town
toxic dump, piled high with trash
along the polluted Platte
all my idealistic eyes saw
was a renaissance arts incubator
visions of thriving creativity touching thousands
dreams forged in tumultuous emergence
‘whose flame is the imprisoned lightening’*
pulling rusted nails atop ladders
through the melting heat of summer
perennially terrified of heights
in your dark interior
smelling of oil and decay
wrenching a back long degraded by poverty

amabile

an idea worth engaging
after the ash of terrorism
filled our lungs with suffering
still blind to ideology’s deadlier side
abandoned building an ever present
reminder of horrors
I’d swing in the shadows
absorbing fear and poison
fantasizing about healing through art
about becoming the ‘Mother of Exiles’*
others escaped in cocaine, marijuana, and wine stupors
(they frightened me more than the terrorists)
but I wanted to feel and still act
weep on the dusty, frigid concrete
daring myself to stay
replaying little match girl scenes from my childhood

a capriccio

an ungainly thing, not quite coming together
I began to love you; the neighbors were a bit leery
tottering ever on the brink of survival
dumpster diving for office furniture
roaming commercial spaces
surreal landscapes of the impoverished
reaching out to those with even less
that underbelly of America
she kept smashing plates to build collages
floors soaked with industrial grime
they put up a slide on the stairs
lending to the murderous carnival atmosphere
something had to be done

appassionato

savior complex in overdrive
overzealous cheerleader
my overachieving rocket roared
your time arrived as others saw your worth
sacrifices of body and mind to your cause
(my left arm still aches all the time)
hundreds came together
scoured for every penny
exploited every opportunity
the revolution received matching grants from the crown
to feed you, cradle you so that one day
you could proclaim:
‘Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore’*

allargando con brio

you gained strength as your influence spread
became the magnanimous gift of the community
inspiring others to acts of expression and reclamation
‘beacon-hand glows world-wide welcome
send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door’*
affecting change, inspiring emotion

pesante macando

like the Eames film portraying
America to Moscow
at the height of the Cold War
it was propaganda

sotto voce

as the shroud is placed
upon your remains
we bow our heads,
at least it was honest

*Lines from ‘The New Colossus’ by Emma Lazarus, 1883 which is inscribed on a plaque at the Statue of Liberty in NYC.

Personal Note: After the shock of 9/11 I came together with many talented, intelligent, and compassionate artists to build a community arts center that provided some 85,000 people with art therapy, arts instruction, and exhibition opportunities. I spent 7 years of my life working to make the organization successful. Four years ago I left as the Executive Director confident that I had nurtured, grown, and provided for her so she’d continue to flourish. This week I found out they will be closing their doors, ending almost 11 years of programming for historically underserved populations. A devastating blow.