Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

41/365

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Typically, these verses exist approximately 32 days in the immediate past—it was after developing an archive of poems I began publishing them here as an established project.

However, a majority of yesterday was spent reviewing in my head the developing stories within Austin and the University of Texas campus. Usually I take current happenings lightly; oftentimes, if not careful, a poet can date him/herself rather quickly if a steady notion of the momentary culture is maintained—and yet every once in a while a situation raises the need for a creative response.

Case in point, the drama at UT. It remains hard to fully comprehend the struggles individual students stress on themselves—and why they resort to voilent extremes. Commentaries and news updates will clog television stations and media outlets for the next few days analyzing the details. Situations like these leave me feeling at a loss for words or action—is it enough just acknowledging the unfolding drama, or are there steps as a teacher I can put into place myself?

And then sometimes, a respectful silence can be the only temporary answer. A waiting for further details.

Consequently, this is what developed on the page:


Take in the day. Breathe.
There is nothing one can say.
Events rest as stones.

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