As many of you know, I own a small, independent publishing company that will be releasing two books of poetry (one a collection by Jesse S. Mitchell & another that represents the work of 15 poets from around the world). These books are slated for release in late 2012 and early 2013. For more information about these authors please visit my company website at http://chromatopias.com/poets. These projects and my upcoming solo painting exhibition in September require me to take an extended blogging break. In the interim I’ll be reposting some poetry but won’t have the opportunity to participate in many social activities until I am caught up at work. I won’t be visiting other sites with regularity so if you have something you’d like to call my attention to please leave your link in the comment section of the most recent post. I appreciate your patience and look forward to returning to full participation soon.
‘to introduce among them the habits and arts of civilization’
FADE IN:
Scene 1 EXT. DENVER, COLORADO (1864) – DAY – ESTABLISHING
BLACK KETTLE CHEYENNE CHIEF (Voice Over)
. . . we came to the conclusion to make peace with you . . .
we want true news from you in return . . .
Scene 2 INT. MAYOR’S OFFICE – DENVER, COLORADO – NIGHT
MAYOR WYNKOOP to MESSENGER
We’ll release our prisoners in exchange for the release of theirs
tell Black Kettle’s Cheyenne and Left Hand’s Arapaho bands
to go to Fort Lyon and camp 40 miles outside at Sand Creek
there they’ll be under the protection of the United States troops
Scene 3 INT. FORT LYONS, COLORADO – DAY
CLOSE ANGLE ON COL. JOHN MILTON CHIVINGTON
Damn any man who sympathizes with Indians
I have come to kill Indians, and
I believe it is right and honorable to use any means
under God’s heaven to kill Indians
Scene 4 EXT. ENCAMPMENT OUTSIDE SAND CREEK, COLORADO – NIGHT
The camp is full of soldiers drinking heavily and celebrating the victory to come
CAPTAIN SILAS S. SOULE
He means to attack a peaceful settlement
all to further his political ambitions
LIEUTENANT JAMES D. CANNON
He risks court-marshall
what are we going to do?
CAPTAIN SILAS S. SOULE
Refuse to let our companies join in
I don’t see any other way
Scene 5 EXT. SAND CREEK, COLORADO – DAY
MONTAGE:
A) Bodies are strewn through the creek and along the banks B) Women, children, and elderly are clearly among the dead or dying C) Cannons have been used against the civilian population D) Small bands of soldiers are shooting unarmed people pleading for their lives E) The tribes horses are either dead or let loose F) CHIVINGTON’S soldiers are looting the gifts given to the tribes in the peace treaty G) LIEUTENANT JAMES D. CANNON and CAPTAIN SILAS S. SOULE return to the white encampment
END MONTAGE
Scene 6 EXT. SAND CREEK – DAY
Several days have passed, the soldiers have left the survivors have fled
CAPTAIN SILAS S. SOULE (Voice Over)
The massacre lasted six or eight hours (beat)
it was hard to see little children on their knees having
their brains beat out by men professing to be civilized (beat)
they were all horribly mutilated . . .
Scene 7 INT. CONGRESSIONAL HEARING – DAY
LIEUTENANT JAMES D. CANNON
Men, women, and children’s privates cut out
I heard numerous incidents in which men had cut out
the private parts of women and stretched them
over their saddle-bows and hats . . .
No charges were ever brought against any soldier
Scene 8 EXT. PRISON YARD, FORT MARION, FLORIDA – DAY
RICHARD PRATT (Prison Commander) to HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
The end to be gained is the complete civilization of the Indian
his absorption into our national life (beat)
to lose his identity as such (beat)
the sooner all tribal relations are broken up
the sooner he loses all his Indian ways
even his language, the better it will be
for him and the government
Scene 9 INT. PRISON SCHOOL, FORT MARION, FLORIDA (late 1870s) – DAY
MAKING MEDICINE (CHEYENNE WARRIOR) now DAVID PENDLETON OAKERHATER
You remember when I led you out to war
I went first, and what I told you was true
Now I have been away to the East
I have learned about another captain
the Lord Jesus Christ, and he is my leader
He goes first, and all he tells me is true
I come back to my people to tell you
go with me now in this new road
a war that makes all for peace
where we never have only victory . . .
Scene 10 INT. MISSION SCHOOL, INDIAN TERRITORY, OKLAHOMA – DAY
Indian children are learning English
OAKERHATER, an ordained priest, died in 1931 due to efforts by the Oklahoma Council on Indian Ministries he was named a saint of the Episcopal Church in 1985
FADE OUT:
Cheyenne was a name given to the tribe by the French from the word meaning dog the actual names of the tribes Só’taeo’o and Tsétsêhéstâhese mean ‘Human Beings’
Psalm 23
New International Version (NIV)
A psalm of David.
1 The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.
‘brought into being by nothing other than the look’*
using poetry to stitch the seams, painting them with vitreous enamel
burnishing golden orbs of beauty, enhancing the visual field
to make the world seem habitable
inherently empathetic to human existence
when does the illusion, this disembodied utterance,
enter firmly into the realm of futility?
jamais vu à travers
philosophical argument merely hints at a promise of liberty
floating upon the surface of psychological experience
a convincing conundrum that won’t unlock
inner barriers to designing boundaries of self-definition
societal viewing provides ample opportunities
to manifest cognitive dissonance, reinforcing the brute
that omniscient spectator-god within the man
emmuré dans ce paradoxe
feminine artistry is required to remain comfortably incarcerated
chaos churns with near indomitable force
why fight when you are forever outnumbered?
control may simply be a part of the disease
disempowering internalization of the oppressor’s abuse
replaying his semiotic position as the maker of meaning
whom I know is never she, never me
une illusion, un fantasme masculin
called into existence through the male gaze, the internalized observer,
objectified and exploited by possession and protection
filming my every move in art house cinematic style
encircled in an ouroboros of scopophilia
blinded to feminist themes, it traps what’s possible
entangling these hands, bloodied with struggle
incapable now of creating and preserving identity
une créature spécieuse, chose éphémère
scraping molded forms to sharpen focus
no spiritual value arising from inherent worth
only sculpting my usefulness in a deterministic role
voyeur’s fantasy allays the weight of moral consequences
fixing upon the screen the sanctioned story
i am a dissociated, breathing pleasure toy, imaginary signifier,
an unintentional participant living in a heightened state of unreality
Notes: *Christian Metz, French film theorist
Scopophilia or scoptophilia, from Greek “love of looking”, is deriving pleasure from looking. As an expression of sexuality, it refers to sexual pleasure derived from looking at erotic objects: erotic photographs, pornography, naked bodies, etc. It can also be described as intermittent desire of gazing at. Alternatively, this term was used by cinema psychoanalysts of the 1970s to describe pleasures (often considered pathological) and other unconscious processes occurring in spectators when they watch films. The term was borrowed from psychoanalytic theories of Jacques Lacan and Otto Fenichel. Critical race theorists, such as Bell Hooks, David Marriott, and Shannon Winnubst, have also taken up scoptophilia and the scopic drive as a mechanism to describe racial othering.
French translation: I am diaphanous/forever seen through/immured in this paradox/an illusion, a male fantasy/a specious creature, ephemeral thing
ངར་དྲགས གངས་ཅན
in the mystical Himalaya utopia of Gangkhar Puensum
I journey to the unexplored center of the earth
traversing the home of her thunder dragon
trekking the sacred mountain of enlightenment,
cosmic mother of inspiration and perseverance,
painted with the prosody of blue poppies
sambar deer and snow leopards twist with linguistic delight
beyond the nival zone where meta-language rains down
high velocity clouds upon my grand-design spiral galaxy
I pass orchids with angelic authority
producing quantum fluctuations
in these pleasure grounds of the immortals
searching cobalt, alizarin crimson, and marigold skies
to light paths to heaven limned by terre verte steppes
burnt sienna cliffs adrift in flurries of dioxazine peaks
here the spiritual embraces mythic potential
coruscant intellect entwines deepening emotion
melodies skip along jagged thresholds between worlds
intimating my life is an art form, creating meaning
in the liminal spaces, semi-permeable membranes
across a constitutive defensible line
poiesis arises in my being, an action that
transforms and continues the universe
transmutes experience into aesthetic bliss
in my union with the unknowable, a gestalt entity
forms upon this untamable, niveous mountain
a memento mori of ars poetica
23 nuclear tests to end all wars, you see,
There’s never been a woman like Gilda,
The first plutonium-cored, pin-up girl,
1946 femme fatal bombshell (she’s already killed twice!)
Stars in B-29 Superfortress, Dave’s (Wet) Dream
Her aim point Nevada, that focal point of sin
Painted whorific red, sex-toy fun for the bombardier,
Amidst 3 obsolete U.S. battleships (well hung),
2 aircraft carriers (top guns), 2 cruisers (playboys),
11 destroyers (bad boys), 8 submarines (spooks),
And 3 German and Japanese ships (losers)
She laps up the Able Target Array carnage
Gives atmospheric nuclear fallout head,
Spewing an ocean of emotional wounds Special Delivery propaganda porno flick:
‘Air power is peace power!’ hard on baby
Film noir fireball glory for a superheated Cold War
Operations Crossroads testing at Bikini Atoll
Depravity reaches the Atomic Ark tasting her full fury
Naval uniforms specially made, the animals dress the parts
She blasts goat #113 after tethering him to a gun turret
While swimmy little piggy #311 comes home sterile
167 native islander witnesses, however, cannot
Her encore will be performed by stunt double Bravo,
Another 15 megaton super dirty girl
‘Men fall in love with Gilda but wake up with me.’
Rita Hayworth, on her five failed marriages
‘I am Indra, the king of heaven;
of the senses I am the mind;
and in living beings I am consciousness.’
(Bhagavad-Gita 10.22)
Vrtrá, asura ahi (demon-dragon),
whose name embodies
one who encloses, obstructs,
a thief, inveterate hoarder,
fetid breather of greed
with immense thirst drinks
every drop of water in the world
most precious source of life,
leaving death in his sloshing wake
God of thunder and rain,
mighty Indra, wielder of vajra (lighting)
representative of the East, master of elements
Agni (fire), Varuna (water), and Surya (sun)
warrior of courage and strength,
astride Airavata, divine cloud-white elephant,
five-headed Ardha-Matanga,
vows to free humanity of Vrtrá’s evil:
disease of consuming chaos
curse of asat (nonexistence)
Emboldened by soma (draught of immortality)
driving Airavata’s thundering charge
through Vrtrá’s ninety-nine fortresses,
Indra strings indradhanushya (the rainbow)
with vajra striking the dragon’s belly –
splits it wide open releasing a deluge of water
rain falls from lavender skies to bloom the lotus
all beings rejoice, sing sacred songs,
to mark the end of the spiritual drought
In deep hypnosis the subject,
military or civilian,
can be given a message to be
delivered to say Colonel X in Berlin.
I found myself somewhere
at the edge of the known earth
in an age when there is nowhere left to hide
for you it was always a game
you never think I remember
but the blunt force trauma
entered my mind all twisted,
as a matter of survival
The subject may then be sent to Berlin on any perfectly routine assignment. The message will be perfectly safe and will be delivered to the proper person because…
Your missive arrives
in that cryptographic mind
geography’s incomprehensibility
impossible to decipher
a one-time pad on a sheet of nitrocellulose
it burns instantaneously, leaving small ash
a. the subject will have no memory whatsoever in the waking state as to the nature and contents of the message.
A truly random sequence of letters
trick of modular addition
only I got lost in the ciphertext
mistaking it for meaning
meta-language to transcend what came before
b. it can be arranged that the subject will have no knowledge of ever having been hypnotized.
A tortuous inculcation
using proximity and shame
more like a rearrangement
an anagram, a twisted joke
c. it can be arranged that no one beside Colonel X in Berlin can hypnotize the subject and recover the message.
A spiritual starving
that hollows me out from the inside
even after all this time
with this great distance
it is a violence that wrenches free
dissociates, disembodies, a disease
He will never under any circumstances by a slip of the tongue divulge the true nature of his mission for the very simple reason that he has no conscious knowledge of what that mission may be. He is merely going on a routine replacement… This will be his story and the story which he believes.
A priori probability is equivocated to
a posteriori where the entropy of plaintext
equals the conditional entropy
of the plaintext given in the ciphertext C
you’ll begin to see where I derailed the equation
Secondly, if by any chance he is picked up through a leakage of information from other sources the message is safe. No amount of third degree tactics can pry it loose, for he simply does not have it in his conscious mind.
All that I have is this legacy of ashes
an unbreakable code
shielding you from your crimes
infinite computing no adversary
for the tangled traumas obscured in my mind
A specific counterintelligence technique could be used against enemy agents… I will take a number of men and will establish in them through the use of hypnotism the condition of split personality.
In a conventional symmetric encryption algorithm
complex patterns of substitutions and transpositions
these places dance to orient me to the key
I begin to see the risks
Consciously they will be ardent Communists, fanatical adherents to the party line, ready and eager to submit to any discipline which the party may prescribe. Unconsciously they will be loyal Americans just as grimly determined to thwart the Communists at every turn in the road.
Data remanence is such a continual problem
simplest overwrite technique
write the same data everywhere
(often just a pattern of zeros)
a way to be nothing/nullify feeling
This sounds unbelievable, but I assure you it will work.
Poetry is a cipher but it isn’t known whether
there’s a cryptanalytic procedure
which can reverse these transmutations
mathematics may be my undoing
While I’m mourning what cannot be recovered
security continually assures me that this technique
is proven to provide the perfect secrecy
Your hypothetical counter spy… will not disclose his true role for the very simple reason that he cannot… if through some leakage, he is suspected of being an informer his true role is safely guarded, locked inside the unconscious and impervious to all assaults from the outside.
* Italicized text taken directly from a declassified CIA document dated June 22, 1954. The poem is a rewrite of my own Perfect Secrecy. Linked to dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar prompt ‘What’s the Buzz’ http://dversepoets.com/2012/07/05/whats-the-buzz/
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Denise Levertov
When words penetrate deep into us they change the chemistry of the soul, of the imagination. We have no right to do that to people if we don’t share the consequences.
Postmodernism is an intellectual, artistic, philosophical, and/or cultural mindset that questions institutionalism, hierarchy, power, and simple, knowable truth. Alternatively it embraces complexity, contradiction, ambiguity, fractured metaphysics, multiplicity, deconstruction, and diversity. In poetry it offers semiotic liberty.
Robert Anton Wilson
Semantic noise also seems to haunt every communication system. A man may sincerely say, ‘I love fish,’ and two listeners may both hear him correctly, yet the two will neurosemantically file this in their brains under opposite categories. One will think the man loves to dine on fish, and the other will think he loves to keep fish (in an aquarium).
Witold Gombrowicz
Here is the writer who with all his heart and soul, with his art, in anguish and travail offers nourishment – there is the reader who’ll have none of it, and if he wants, it’s only in passing, offhandedly, until the phone rings. Life’s trivia are your undoing. You are like a man who has challenged a dragon to a fight but will be yapped into a corner by a little dog. from Ferdydurke
I’m an Executive Director with a doctorate in education, a consultant, painter, photographer, composer, poet, and vocalist.
Gustav Flaubert
Everything one invents is true, you may be perfectly sure of that. Poetry is as precise as geometry.
Dušan “Charles” Simić
Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.
Monique Wittig
Language casts sheaves of reality upon the social body, stamping it and violently shaping it… Language as a whole gives everyone the same power of becoming an absolute subject through its exercise. But gender, an element of language, works upon this ontological fact to annul it as far as women are concerned and corresponds to a constant attempt to strip them of the most precious thing for a human being – subjectivity. Gender is an ontological impossibility because it tries to accomplish the division of Being. But Being is not divided. God or Man as being are One and whole. So what is this divided Being introduced into language through gender? It is an impossible Being, it is a Being that does not exist, an ontological joke, a conceptual maneuver to wrest from women what belongs to them by right: conceiving of oneself as a total subject through the exercise of language. The result of the imposition of gender, acting as a denial at the very moment when one speaks, is to deprive women of the authority of speech, and to force them to make their entrance in a crablike way, particularizing themselves and apologizing profusely. The result is to deny them any claim to the abstract, philosophical, political discourses that give shape to the social body. Gender then must be destroyed. The possibility of its destruction is given through the very exercise of language. For each time I say ‘I’ I reorganize the world from my point of view and through abstraction I lay claim to universality. This fact holds true for every locutor.
W.S. Merwin
All the things that really matter to us are impossible…Writing poetry is impossible. I don’t know how to write a poem. A poem – there has to be a part of it that is not my own will; it comes from somewhere that I don’t know. There is so much that comes out of what we don’t know and what we don’t have any control over. I think that one of the only things we can learn as we get older is a certain humility. – from Doing the Impossible
Thomas Aquinas
Because philosophy arises from awe, a philosopher is bound in his way to be a lover of myths and poetic fables. Poets and philosophers are alike in being big with wonder.
Chromapoetica 