Deep
Deep, dee dee dee deep. Oh what could I add to deep American culture conversations, the tsunami of words on radio talk shows and internet blogs, network news and cable rants, culture wars, everyone uses words like "patriotism," baby boomers remembering shards and fragments of childhood civics classes, great speeches of history, Founding Fathers being pimped like toothpaste to prove one or another point on all sides of the cultural divide.
And even this has been said before. All the words have been used, great dictionaries of words, encyclopedias of information flung like mad confetti into citizen homes and gardens.
So I shall go deep de de de deep. Deep to roots of trees and bottoms of lakes, deep as canyons and low valleys. Deep to the bottom of it all, where everything is joined and there is no conflict. Deep where we all share existence itself, we are all together, all one. No hocus pocus here, no magic secret Mason handshake, no Druidic nature worship. Just spinning in the universe, all of us spinning, deep in our own existence, playing out the light and the dark.
And even this has been said before. All the words have been used, great dictionaries of words, encyclopedias of information flung like mad confetti into citizen homes and gardens.
So I shall go deep de de de deep. Deep to roots of trees and bottoms of lakes, deep as canyons and low valleys. Deep to the bottom of it all, where everything is joined and there is no conflict. Deep where we all share existence itself, we are all together, all one. No hocus pocus here, no magic secret Mason handshake, no Druidic nature worship. Just spinning in the universe, all of us spinning, deep in our own existence, playing out the light and the dark.
posted by Nightprowlkitty at 5:58 PM
3 Comments:
Kinda makes me think of poet Eric Blau and Elly Stone,the singer. Met them in Toronto during Jacques Brehl tibute in our theatres. For all I know, they might be dead, but here and there I hear echoes of a certain period in your blog.
Seriousl, weren't those the days?
Yah, Ivan, I never met 'em, was stuck in Milwaukee on the side of town where there wasn't any culture to speak of, took many years to break out, woo whoo!
I grew up in Hamilton, Ontario, which is exactly like Toledo, Ohio.
But we had coffee houses and real beats, one of them fired by Stelco because his Allen Ginsberg beard was a fire hazard.
I was real fun to copycat Greenwich Willage, and now you're there.
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