2017 MONSTERS & BUGS #poeticmoments #blog #writerslife

THE POLITICAL CARTOON CIRCULATES ON TWITTER 2-22-2017;
IT IS FROM  THE NETHERLANDS 

FROM  NETHER LANDS

" 'Poet' stands in for poetic soul already active within the soul of anything. Take the soul of words, for instance. Already at work underlying...." —I love this word! What is the under lying-soul of such poetry doing in all that lying? Poetic soul lies to tell a bigger truth. Poetic soul is polutropos, but like Odysseus, not Achilles. Polutropia is the very source setting up a both and scenario that links soul-making in a way which says truth-telling, lying, poetry and interpretation are all connected in a specific way that shows the very structure of the human soul is as a hidden unity. This "hiding" in both senses of staying hidden while showing up on the skins of things, events, destinies and fates, etc. presents a hidden unity as a multiplicity and this is necessarily so in the making of our humanity towards each other. (see M Davis Lies Like The Truth: On Plato's Lesser Hippias - Taylor & Francis Online) But now, for that hidden unity which is our truth... "Already at work underlying a word's thought is a mythos. There is mythos in logos." The above quote is taken from the prologue to my newest poetry book "Monsters & Bugs" planned for release in 2017. And because this is a mythopoetic blog post, to illustrate this "there-is-a-mythos-in-the-logos" idea let me go to the political cartoon circulating on twitter today. The Trojan-Horsed Trump image belongs to a political cartoon from The Netherlands. It seems to mock America for what some Americans remain blind to seeing. Yes, there is a mythos in every logos that allows myths to operate unconsciously. Mythic narratives belong to comic things and tragic things. Just as one doesn't want to be at the receiving end of a tragic joke, one ought for that very reason pay attention to the under lying-voice in the poetic soul operating now shaping what spirit our America will have been, in representing itself now and for all posterity to come. Let us not live a myth. Let us listen to the deep geography. Yes, even our land dreams through the climate of our times. There is a mythos in its logos that brought us here. It is the myth of a new land and a new kind of freedom best represented by the statue of Liberty. Our deep geography says everything dreams towards a eudaimonia, the fantasy of a fully flourishing humanity. Let us work with that and let that fully flourishing humanity cross back over the Nether Land of our under-worlds.

___________ notes The quote is taken from the prologue to the upcoming Monsters & Bugs poetry series tenatively set to publish sometime in 2017. The political cartoon circulates on twitter 2-22-17 having origin in The Netherlands

ON MYTHOPOESES & CREATIVITY PLAYING THE OTHER................. ~Lines For David Miller

Silence as negation…as a fantasized potential, a not-yet-articulated fullness of speech…one of the key distinguishing features…the acting out of paradox. –Elleke Boehmer, Stories of Women , p.131


Where you gathered the line
poetized with seem and think
forgetful of being,  thought that felt itself
seamed again a so-ing term just how.

And where, in gathered words, the poetized
whatness had nowhere-ness to it, the mythic
deep, sweet scent betrayed also the eddy
you never spoke to me to speak the way it did
a silence like the roar of the sea in the shell of the ear.

Negate the negation and where the line gathers
is left in wakened, drunken foam the wrecked poem
negation by negation, wine-darkened is its d-calmed
position (oh, the ghosting, dull, dead, dee composition!)
rendering where I gather the line into me and where
fluid gathering separates out in poetic remains
my psyche's "psyche" gathering lines for her.
                                ***

And where you gathered for her, entering the work, too
(enter the work from anywhere, you said)
you suspended belief in things to gather this around you
teach me, friend, the way you cannot bare it
I will tell you, too the way I cannot share it
how waxing red gathers my scar’s fading amethyst in blue
a wine-darkened post-colonial skin not unlike your smithee
“bloom-like” flesh still glowing of its own accord in how
(an artistic interface, a signature in the para-work for sure!)
or... how unbloom-like and dissed this seamless entry seems
(an O! —Phersephassa’s laughless stone.)

But where, in grace and ghost, already entered and left
in this word is a word eclipsed, one not quite “here” where
each psyche’s poetic presence might also have come to presence
(born a second time as it will have been, from the belly of the pater-matter)
having played the other in a space gotten round
(an in/can/dee-essence the now “embodied absence” signs.)


From here another world must come.


©2007-2013 PLAYING THE OTHER: Lines For David Miller; On Mythopoeses and Creativity  stephanie pope, White Stocking Tales Poetry Series mythopoetry.com

This poem is dedicated to Maggie Macary, Ph.D. (1954-2006)

____________________________notes


THOUGHT TO PONDER active imagining in syllables and in conspectu mortis
or the transcendant function in middle "dee"


First memories of loving come to me in a hush, and by each of them I am undone a little, while there in the each of them, the mine within me continues to hide. Undone, I grow dull like the letter "dee" hiding within the configuration of that word. And, because in this moment it is love that seems to die a little through the story inside me, I sometimes feel just like that dull "dee" hiding inside the voice of its own name. "I love you" I say to that felt silence. And then I die a little, too, just so the unone of my lovestory can live again--even if just for this little while.

(Stephanie Pope, April, 2002)