Taking in Concordance

December 15, 2012

When I memorize this poem, it’s as if it lives off to the lower right in my imaginal field of vision. I look there, an inadvertent movement, to a sense of the page over there, as a spacial composition – stanzas, spaces, the turning to the next page – as a guide into the chaotic furniture in the room of my memory. Its becoming me, these lines, these layouts, Kiki Smith’s imagery. And with that rote there is a danger: the parts of writing that I can now just say, that roll off my tongue, when I do do this, they have lost some of this readily available formation-seeking, as if the words are emanating from my mouth, rather than a kind of place that is more mind-body/space. I suppose I can access something more integrated, actually, which when I do can be a helpful thing, because otherwise, when I emerge from this blurting indulgence of the text, I am lost. I have no pages, no corners of eyes, no formations like edges of seas to land, and I’m flying. Flying is really a pleasurable thing, if one could feel oneself while doing it, but rather, this flying is doing-without-thinking and perhaps doing-without-consciousness. So, what happens is there has been some kind of separation. Then I return, and find my way back into this bodyscape, which is a inscripted landscape that lives within and between in the spheres of things like “body” and “mind” and “memory” in the interstitial places of transit, where there is movement and the unfolding of words that are in fact the words of This poem now.


And then gaps.




and then returnings


And then back into flow


the poem.


I am at the place where two of the three segments of the poem Concordance are within and can come through me. The meanings shift over time sometimes. I will realize a configuration of phrases perhaps meant it like this, with that word actually working like a very rather than an adjective, whereby offering a whole other piece to the story, like:


“Yearning can’t be split and the animal lost, ahead of time”:


Is it that the animal can’t be lost, that we are incapable of losing our animal nature, which would put us ahead of time, rather than in the here-ness of “for the time being”?, or rather that the animal did lose, because it was ahead of time….  – …a kind of melancholy about the inability for time – our our human measurement in the experience of desire as endless and eternal, and not only, with that, too this animalness and animal time gone? Are we ahead of time, and with time is it always about being ahead or behind since it implies a kind of counting, which has such a danger of comparison?  And of course there are other interpretations.


Sometimes the intention to memorize feels like a distant institution that places weight on me and goes against the flow of expression and listening, at other times it is a doorway in to the vastness of this poem’s landscape.


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