to puncture the skin
Our stories our poetry
are to puncture the skin
of consciousness
:- Doug.
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How might we have our stories, our poems, actually mourn? Or dance? Maybe ask Meredith Willson or Edgar Allan Poe. An actually mourning poem would without words keen in the throat that hears. Keening exceeds the one, enters the realm of the between. The between is the place of traverse, of converse.
:- Doug.
In meditation, you are studying your mind, with hints that your mind might not be you.
:- Doug.
What is the time cycle
that includes the ancestor
and us with the descendant generations?
How far longer is a moment of mystery
beyond a question?
:- Doug.
We think through our bodies as well as through our nervous system and brain.
:- Doug.
I dwell in the ancestors
Ancestors dwell in me
Generations in me
I in them
We converse
:- Doug.
Overload the senses, not by pouring upon them but by calling forth from them, not to take them out but to find what they may contain and produce, and then over again.
:- Doug.
Many say we are in unprecedented times. Rather, these are precedential times.
:- Doug.
I happen to know you are writing a novel, and preparing a blog. What do you think might be your why? What might be your who? What gift do you want to give to humanity?
:- Doug.