Author Topic: Many Musics, Ninth Series, Part 11 (Concluded)  (Read 2207 times)

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Offline cenacle

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Many Musics, Ninth Series, Part 11 (Concluded)
« on: March 15, 2016, 11:11:52 AM »
 lvi. Deeper Creature Time (ii)


The Gate never changes. So massively
  tall, & its legend where its scrollwork peaks:
 “For those lost.”


I enter & there is the Fountain,
  perpetually crumbling yet ever gushing,
 insisting a drink. A drink, & a choice.
  I briefly consider declining but
 realize I need the Gate’s help.
  Whatever that might be, I need it.


So I take my two-handed scoop of
  the cold, tingling water, music to taste,
 water to listen to? Drink it down deep,
  & move past the Fountain.


They knew me once. We became friends
  & together helped the Princess succeed.
 How do I reach them now? Remember
  my old advice to her, tap my head once,
 my heart once, sniff twice, & begin to
  follow somewhat seeming random
 paths of vines & stones. Sky above
  a murky grey. My breath slows nicely,
 I feel my body in a less heavy way.


But eventually I slow, frustrated.
 It is possible to fail & exit the Gate
  a failure? Why this quick to quit in me?


Come on. “Come on!” I begin to call,
  wordlessly, call & call, I cry &
 howl, moan unto hmmmmmm, summon
  all the hope & hopeful purpose I have.
 Come on. “Come on!

Softly, at first, then again a little louder,
  something echoes through the air &
 through my mind, a cackle, another,
  many cackles! Swooping & swirling
 around me, ringing, echoing, echoing,
  then echoing the echoes, it cannot be but
 my old friend the wee Imp! Can it be?
  It must.


******

lvii. Deeper Creature Time (iii)


The cackles continue their echoing
  play, & I follow. Follow, & yet no
 closer. I must faster. I must play.


I think of old times, the White Bunny,
  & I try. Long ears, glowing fur, pink nose,
 nothing. Nothing. Still man-shaped.


Man . . . shaped. Not thinking at all,
  this is my body’s turn to do. I sleek
 down, not quite a bunny, or an imp,
  but a creaturely form all my own,
 what I might have been I now am,
  for this little while. Listen close, I speed.


The cackles triple with delight, this
 is their Architect come for play!
 They direct me, a long tunnel of dancing
  cackles, & I follow, I speed like
 no man has, man I am, man I’m not.


Speed till I slow, slow sudden
  to stop. A cave. This cave.
 I know it. The Beast long lived here.


The cackles are urging me on in,
  but I remain still. The Beast is
 of forces deeper than my knowledge or skill.
  The Beast is this world itself, given
 a body to roam it, a mind to reck
  itself & all dwelling on it.


I kneel. I kneel very low toward
  the Cave & its possible inhabitant.
 I speak quietly, scrub a man’s natural
  arrogance before his world, his hand’s
 & eye’s & mind’s & throat’s raw power,
  & I speak from my long loneliness
 & yearning.

“My friend brought me here. She
  urges me to pass. She is a Creature,
 & travels to her home. I am a man,
  of a kind, & wish to visit, with my
 questions. I ask your leave for
  safe passage. Perhaps there is still
 good in me to do others.”


Upon my last words, & only these,
  a breath, a stirring, the sounds
 of something unearthed from dug &
  tossed rock. Something emits the Cave.

I stand. Approach. No. Yes. Tis. The blue bag
  I gave the Princess long ago. Whole &
 handled still. The Cave says nothing more
  but I sniff twice & feel my entry allowed.
 Realize myself still in Creaturely form as
  I make to pick up the bag with swift
 but clumsy paws. Regret, but reform.

About to revisit its contents, curious
  what remains, but the cackles sudden
 everywhere, high & low, they practically
  push me into the Cave, carrying
 my old bag unopened for now. Well.

Man again, I move at my own swift
  speed now. I feel more myself as this
 latter-day adventure continues, uncertain
  but burbling. Thinking me ready for
 anything.

No. And not. I come of a sudden into
  the too bright central cavern of these
 caves & tunnels, & for a lingering moment
  as I stop, crouch, choke my breath
 & beat still, I hear the scraping stones,
  bare feet upon stones, bare feet dancing,
 dancing, a lithe body conjuring song from
  patterns & dreams. My heart stops. I fall away.

******

lviii. Deeper Creature Time (iv)


When I come to, I am aloft, but back
  in the tunnel I emerged from. My form
 changed to, ah, I am again Hummingbird
  like when I first met her along paths of
 the Gate!

I’m afraid. She dances happily with
  the Creatures, she’s found her content.
 She gifted me my Tower, day & night
  without ending, & I’ve balked.
 Dissatisfy with retiring quietly to a drawer,
  a man-shaped tool plied, & done.

I flit, flit some more, find myself falling
  into these pleasures. Remember
 to listen with ears & there are still
  cackles around me, waiting,
 now nudging a little, come along,
  Hummingbird! New play! New play!

Enter the great cavern again, inured
  to its bright light now, & see
 the Princess has concluded her
  solitary dance & now every Creature
 big & small joins in her frolic.

Many of the major Bears in
  this number, little ones too,
 even wee ones & their oddest of noises
  make me think of the Imp somehow.
 Several Giraffes, a grey Hedgehog,
  the White Bunny! So many more.

I join. Before I can think to think,
  or choose to choose, I join in &
 dance. Flitter high & low, feel out
  the song they sing too, find my voice
 among the many others, & join
  in too. Like I belong. I belong.
My form shifts unknowing to me,
  slowly, I become less Hummingbird
 & more the Creaturely form I’d chose
  to chase the cackles, swift & sleek,
 but then less this than a man’s form,
  my form, still dancing, still singing. 
 Still smiling among all these old friends.

When the singing crescendos to its slow close,
  I feel crowds of Creatures dividing in twain before me
 as I half intentioned, nudged & nudged
  by cackles, by clicks-clicks & noise-noises too
 now, I arrive, fully formed man,
   the dance & song finished, I arrive
 to the shocked, smiling, beautiful face
  of my long-beloved Princess. Oh my.
******

lix. Deeper Creature Time: Grand Production

“We are and are not.”
 --Heraclitus


Your smile holds me from falling,
  keeps me from fleeing. Your hair as red
 as always, as long, your eyes still
  a faerie blue, but nothing to your smile
 as you slow me enough to rest, not pause,
  in my place. Your smile the sum
 of what all these years have not been.
  Your smile sups upon me until I am
 well-chewed, swallowed, expelled back
  to myself as this calm reunion’s moment.

“You came.”
 “You . . . called?”
 She nods, steps forward, & grasps
  my hand. “It was time.”


I feel something wordless, something
  I do not know, good or bad? I don’t
 know. Look down. Our hands, as
  they keep grasping, meld to one.

I gasp. Begin to laugh. Still holding her,
  our hand, I lean over & laugh loud.


“What is it?”
 I hold up our hand. “This! I think
  this is what got lost along the way.
 We let go each other’s hand, & then came
  history. All of it.”


She nods. I please her. She leads me by
  our hand somewhere, woods, White Woods?
 No Creatures follow us. All is quiet.

I want to say & say & say.
 “I do too. It’s OK.”
 Calm. A beat. A breath. OK.
 “Where are we going?”
 “Where I was bound already. I waited for you.”


We come through the Woods to a clearing,
  a long one, & I see at the far end
 a platform, stop which sits a grand stage.
  The Princess smiles ever more so at me,
 I feel as though our limbs are twining
  amongst each other in her excitement.
 Ahh. Many Creatures now join us in the clearing.


We have no special place to stand or sit
  among our friends here, although I notice
  the White Bunny, the turtle who is not a
 turtle, yes, the crazy gnattering Imp
  all nuzzle up near to us. They know me,
  sniff twice familiarly. My heart shines,
 & falls free.


“Tis a Grand Production!”
 I nod. “There is no time.”
 She laughs. Points.


A white-furred  bear wearing a long
  Scotch-styled scarf is waving a long paw
 & crying “On . . . with . . . the . . . Show!”


There is a deep-black bear who
  comes out to dance, tells a few jokes,
 juggles a few, then more, then countless
  balls, then executes an impossible tumble
 into the crowd, returning before left.


There is the black & white bear who
  slides onto the stage, dancing high
 & low, tapping his paws artfully to music
  I wonder must be the Traveling Troubadour’s,
 & brings out the black bear & others to
  leap & fall to the audience’s delight.


Our friend the White Bunny on stage
  performs many dazzling long-eared
 hops, impossibly high & fast!


There is a comical dalmatian & his
  daffy quips. There is a purple-furred
 dancing Creature, long ribbons in
  dizzying flourish. There is the tumbling
 brown monkey who jumps seeming miles
  high. Many, many others come & go.

I forget who I am & am smiling
  the Princess’s smile, laughing
 her laugh, feeling her long deep
  warmth with these friends.
[size=78%] This is who I am when the world[/size]
  isn’t in peril, or when we let each
 other be.


There is the handsome bumblebee gliding
  over us, & atop his furred back is
 a small melancholy-faced pup, & they
  fly together not like steed & ride but
 like their paws too are one, like
  there is no other way to be, stars
 above, earth below, we too are one,
  we too are one.


I wake. Cry out. “Shhh.” Look around.
  Oh. Creatures cavern. They are
 clustered all around us, still dozing.


She smiles down at me, I panic, but
  feel our hand still warmly one.
 Relax a moment. Let her arms around
  me possess me all. So close. Release. So close.


“Yes. And no.” We recede a little. Just a little.
 “There’s more. There’s else.”
 “Not every Creature lives safely here.”
 “Nor most of the world. Shaped like men,
   Creatures. Trees. Everything.”
 “It’s why I called you. Why you brought
  my blue bag.”
 I nod. I’m ready.


******

lx. Deeper Creature Time: Leaving Off
“Nothing remains still.”

--Heraclitus


Sitting side by side, we unclasp the blue bag
  & open its cover. A soft floral scarf
 covers its contents.


She removes a dearly known item to me.
  The braided Threads, hands them to me,
 these are still powerful for our task.
  I nod.


Then she takes out two small red balls,
  blue striped. Three more, orange these.
 She nods this time. I put them aside
  me with the Braided Thread.


The Creatures stir & wake around us,
  sniff twice, know change & gather,
 gather close.


We each touch the Creature near to hand,
  the Princess her White Tiger, me his kind-eyed
 bullfrog companion.


I feel each Creature touching to each,
  one to many to all, paws, nuzzles,
 we too are one, we too are one.


“You’re doing this to teach me.
 You know this already. You always did.”


The Princess smiles at me, her smile
  like shine, like wash, lets me close
 to her, her skin, her hair, allows me
  rove across her cheek, touch her lips,
 smooth to her neck, ‘cross her shoulders,
  upon her breasts, of them in them,
 on them, pleases me man, pleases
  me soul, becomes my tongue sliding
 across her body, taste you tasting me,
  let flesh meld & light, let flesh twain
 & delight to chase, release, chase,
  release, we too are one & two & one
   & two & one too.


She lays the colored balls, the Creatures
  know them as Treasures, in a pattern
 to broadcast us where we will.
  Twined one to another, the Princess
 allowing the girl’s form in her for my
  pleasure, touched by every Creature
 as they doze near us, & later to dancing,
  & later to exploring cavern & Gate
 above alike, we begin to sing
  pathways into the world, touch
 & teach others how.


Remember some things. It took thick
  books of why & walls of fear against
 beasts of the world & unknown men’s
  faces to shock you into following
 obeying silence. It took centuries of
  contrived sufferings to convince you
 that this world is to be suffered.
It took great iron cities built
  gouging & burning from the earth
 to convince you that the world
   does not easily provide to all.
 Caterwauling leaders to scare you from
  each other too close, & let the
 suffering men & women in the streets lie,
  & let them suffer.
You had to tame. You had to conquer.
  You had to cage. You had to own.
 You had to celebrate dominance with
  feast. Cry & fuck. Cry & fuck some more.

There is no time. Especially in dreams.
  As we sing into the world, a low hmmmmmm
 you will not yet hear, tis because it began
  in your dreams, what we sang you
 as we held you close, travelled you
  by cosmos & microbe to see in all
 we too are one, we too are one.


Travel you to the Tangled Gate,
  source of your world, secret you
 can enter & learn to know. Just a drink
  from the Fountain, still lingering
 on the Gate’s legend “For those lost.” Yes.
  You were. You’ll find your way now.


In the Gate, down its many tall pathways
  of vines & stones, we’ll follow you now.
 There is the Hummingbird & its tale
  of men & women remembering their first song
 & flying away, awakening & flying away.


Perhaps you will lead to Cloverdale,
  its dank first room, its room of mirrors,
 its desert & there a small shack.
  Will you meet the small exotic
 or the Tramp his grieving friend?
  Where will you lead us next?


Maybe, freely going now, you will find
  the hekk stick in your hands & thus
 decide easily where this dream next,
  lead us on or let us go, part the Gate
 itself, or else a smile, & deeper in.


If Cloverdale, you might come to
  the Carnival Room if you can, learn
 to sing how &, entering its marvels,
  for you a long-limbed fiddler, for you a great
 buck barking you to knee? Will you carriage
  with us to the far end of the world,
 behold the Sleepers, join them awhile
  in their Sleeping Capsules, drink the juice
 to cross the Dreaming, or show them how
  without Capsule, without juice?


Will you choose to travel with us
  many dreams like these, learn
 what we are, Architect & Princess, &
  behold the Island outside the Gate,
 live with us its story, how we came
  to be, what we learned to know,
 what mysteries we cannot reck, wild cards
  to our equations, our songs, our histories,
 our loves?


As we sit here now with you, in this
  warm cavern, these friendly Creatures
 all around, some dozing, all partners
  in the Hmmmmmm, we invite you
 to wake when you will, how you will,
  make of this dream & its like whatever
 you wish, but return whenever you
  wish to as well. The Braided Thread
 we leave, ever weaving through your
  dreams. Yours to grasp or leave lie.


[And when she at last came, & took
  your other hand, & when he came & took my other,
 something was now complete, now told of what was
  & what passes on to be. I did not let go,
 I am a man & I both hope & fear, but I willed
  my heart open wider to all, to every
 & all, we too are one, we too are one,
  together we will architect this world.
 Together we will architect this beautiful world.]


******
« Last Edit: May 03, 2017, 08:34:30 AM by cenacle »

Offline cenacle

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Re: Many Musics, Ninth Series, Part 11 (Concluded)
« Reply #1 on: March 15, 2016, 01:02:54 PM »
 *** Many Musics, IX, lvi, “Deeper Creature Time (ii),” the Architect enters the Gate, & seeks to summon for help his old Creature friends . . .
*** Many Musics, IX, lvii, “Deeper Creature Time (iii),” the Architect follows the cackling of his old friend the Imp, & comes to the Cave of the Beast, is allowed to pass through it, & finds someone unexpected . . .
*** Many Musics, IX, lviii, “Deeper Creature Time (iv),” the Architect joins in a dance happening, transforms & again & again, till he arrives to the Princess . . .
*** Many Musics, IX, lix, “Deeper Creature Time: Grand Production,” the Princess leads the Architect to witness & enjoy the Creatures’ Carnival Grand Production, just a happy happy poem . . .
*** Many Musics, IX, lx, “Deeper Creature Time: Leaving Off,” & this is the final of the Ninth Series, where Architect & Princess & Demon & Benny Big Dreams all join together for a moment, deep under the Tangled Gate, in a very hopeful moment . . .