I really want to get this going....

Each day's listing is an excerpted edit from my work. These are numbered and sub-headed for ease of read and isolation from full body of continued text. Each small excerpt is a single-themed piece culled from a much larger whole. Please follow the heading numbers down to #1, or click on 'archive'. The highest numbers are most recently posted, obviously. If so interested, for follow-up, you may contact via e-mail shown - perhaps for discussion or annotation needed.

Friday, December 09, 2005

THIS HERE PLACE GOES

49. THIS HERE PLACE GOES:

I have colored the tabernacle and it is purple I have shaded the curtains and they are red silk and damask and the massive pullstrings woven of gold and hung with precision conceal the ark and the treasures within and I send back messages to the men of the Bible and the Hammurabic scribes etching letters in stone or baking the clay as WE READ without ceasing and translate the damages in the prisons of other minds with Gavin Evans and any of his brothers Bernard Meisel Henry Schneider and - lest we forget the fairer sex among us -Linda Slocum of Dubrovsky Prefect Sullivan Arts at 34 E11th Street (ALL once patients of ours) and through this MY CONSCIOUSNESS IS AN EVERYDAY ORDEAL and that is the one paradox of my life that I cannot solve nor fathom – HOW I GOT THIS WAY – and just as I say that I present myself at the same time outside of the McCauley Mission on White Street and I enter the lobby where four guys are sitting around quite happily and with glee talking to one another and I notice that glee to be a SIMPLE glee - one I’ve never attained - a simple glee of men talking and trading their simple informations between themselves and it’s probably been this way JUST AS IT SAYS since 1827 right here or if not here then nearby and I walk in among the enamel and the polished walls and the entryway desk where the white man sits with paper and pencil and the cook comes out laughing and comments on the simplicitude of everything old and the new and he smiles and walks me out as we talk and trade messages to the traffic passing by in the deep horrid cold of real life - ALL DOORS SHUTTERED ALL BUSINESSES SHUT all time stopped everything without motion and without commotion too and in that stable environment I see men work and stay and prosper but BUT IT IS NOT MINE so I must move on and simply laugh back thinking of Ezekiel which is all I ever think of - the vast man prophet of old standing before the visiting Gods and their crafts roaring and he writhed twisting back to establish something JUST SOMETHING TO RECOGNIZE and all that’s left is a meager description of majesty and power and might and the vast roaring roving spacecraft from stars and places unseen lands him down takes him back enters him away and in that flash of smoke and fire I REALIZE I STILL LIVE and within and among that are no voices to hear no words no language for all is greater than all and everything is more than everything and more than everything ever was for ‘BEFORE ALL LIMITS SO WAS I’ and it was only restless man who set the terms and made the limits and now professes to live amongst what he has made and in that FALL we so exist amidst so many things (OH OH let me list) : the severed garden the broken sky the wearying weathers the toil of work and labor the settings of the sun and moons the turnings of all things the reasonings and the openings and closings of our simple logics and countings the very makings of our place and forms and Earth itself among us for ONCE WE WERE MORE and once we were free but now sundered and broken we exist among our own rubble turning and deciding and separating and breaking forth from terms and conditions without sense or ending and in that morass we try to stay alive and live and prosper by whatever terms we make for the conditions we take and IT IS HARD THIS SIMPLE LABOR of mind and hand and matter and place but no map exists except for the one we’ve made and somehow somehow in the eyes of all men I see that weary toil over and over again.

3 Comments:

At 5:29 PM, Blogger Tenderheart said...

What wonderful imagery. I sense so much passion in your writing.

 
At 2:18 AM, Blogger consise10 said...

I found it very difficult to completely comprehend,but none the less what Tenderheart above has said I reiterate. Great narrative Gary.

 
At 7:00 PM, Blogger gary j. introne said...

Consise10 - I've spent most of today, while at work, thinking through the comments you sent. And then as I came home tonight, I just saw your latest, in reference to my latest posting. Of course, once again,I'm interested in and taken by, your positive comments. In this version of 'blog-world', it's what I live for, so to speak, and I'm quite happy you took sense from it and a picture of where it was going and what it was about. I spend most of my time writing, and that which I post is either an excerpted part of something new, or some recent-vintage snip from a piece I've finished. I seldom write JUST for the posting. That may be one of the difficulties we get in understanding or interpreting what's read, brought on by : the need for fuller story-lines and fuller references. On the other hand, it doesn't always NEED to make sense. I once criticized someone for writing 'like a scientist' - meaning he was eminently sensible, clear, precise. That is the scientist's way - setting out a postulate, explaining it and then proving it and in the proving declaiming the procedure and the steps of the experiment. That's nice as it goes, but it leaves NOTHING for the magical side of being - nothing for the unexpected, the whimsical, the fanciful engagement of the reader. Which is, I believe, where I come in. I seek to bring the reader to that place where context, in and of itself, breaks down (somewhat) so that the reader's own (NEW) wallpaper can go up - with all the right connections between word/experience/picture/memory taking place. If it works, actually, I end up doing HALF the work, as the reader does another half. (My own physics and math this is too - there are MORE than two halves to what I'm doing). So, in any case, your read and your reaction(s) make me glad. I value the feedback and find it enjoyable to read comments.

Anyway, I do look forward to your words and am always happy when someone writes.

Thanks.

Gary Introne

 

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