Herbie Mann Comin' Home

Friday, October 29, 2010

Et In Arcadia Ego





Bones to ash in an urn, 

Or headstones, head wood

Over the undergarment flower spray --

A vestige vestry -- place to atone for showing up at all.

I'm morally slow -- so-so -- not grasping the adoration,

This note-taking, this shorthand, this history,

This heart being three-thirds full of itself,

Our artifact, our self, our true love

Our dot, dot, dot

.

14 comments:

  1. i like to play connect the dots...helps you get a fuller picture...smiles.

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  2. Wow... this is just an amazing read and write. NICE mag. Love and Light, Sender

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  3. Beautiful, thoughtful, intelligent. I adore the dot, dot, dot.

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  4. It is true that we are so full of ourselves and have been throughout history, but here you make us aware that in reality we are minutia. Beautifully done, TF!

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  5. Brian,

    Helps me that you notice that. When I deal with a 'bigger-than-both-of-us' idea, it's hard to ratchet things 'up' into any right word. Meaning's got to fall into the gaps.

    TFool

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  6. senderupwords,

    Strong praise! Thank you!

    Trulyfool

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  7. Willow,

    You know I always 'dig' your encouragements. How you manage, given your busy site, I cannot imagine! So: Thanks!

    Truly

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  8. Cher,

    You're terrifically sweet to say so -- and to take time to understand!

    Trulyfool

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  9. this was wonderfully human :)

    and those guys are totally playing rock, paper, fire in that picture...I say fire because I'm not sure scissors were around yet, they probably were...but again I'm not sure.

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  10. Sombre, existential, and bang on, sir.
    Cemeteries are sanctuaries of guilt,
    of repressed remorse. You present
    the folly, yet still seem to care about
    we fools who visit these stone and wood
    carved names in those lonely parks
    of the dead.,

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  11. umapoems,

    Thank you for saying so. Let me visit your blog? (Will do)

    Trulyfool

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  12. Rene,

    I see these Poussin figures in light of the men-apes in 2001: A Space Odyssey -- touching the strange object which baffles them utterly.

    The question remains: where is Arcadia, and how do I get there? (Do I want to?)

    Trulyfool

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  13. Glenn,

    It's hard for me to shake that somber, existential "thing". I've had moments of peaceful relaxation listening to Sibelius for an hour which might cause others to open a vein in a warm bath.

    I'm a cheerful guy who's just aware of the precipice. But wants to have the picnic anyway.

    Trulyfool
    (In your neck of the woods)

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