Witness

This is interesting, Tom. I have to ask, was the shift in rhyme and meter intentional, with the stanza that begins "Attention shifts"? I'd fallen into a nifty little rhythm-- found myself looking forward to anticipating the rhyme scheme, which seemed fairly fluid-- and then hit that stanza, where it... shifts.

This grabs me, Tom. I'm working through the maleness that is Cormac, since I can't get into him but I appreciate the dense prose. And I'm going to go find kalpa. Cool, make me stretch!

Thanks, Corinna. I wish I could say it was intentional, but no, it wasn't. :-) Glad it was interesting.

Faith - Yeah, he isn't quite Little Women, is he? I'm enjoying reading him quite a bit, and the idea of a witness being, or allowing an action, is such a cool thing to think about. Sort of like the sound in a forest when no one is there. Thanks for reading, Faith.

If I had a nickel for every time someone pointed out something in my poems that I hadn't realized I'd done, I'd be on my way to fame and fortune. :) It's a neat effect, and you could tighten it up a little in the before and after to accentuate it if it's one you'd like to keep.

Emphasize the effect. -Emphasize-. This is why I usually don't comment during the week, my brain just shuts off.

Thanks, Corinna. I took your advice and made a few changes to even up the rhythm and the rhyme a little.

Tom,

Cormac McCarthy's landscapes are not lush, and I love him for that.

These lines in your poem sound eloquent:

"And as the mass becomes a meal

I wonder who will witness us.

What slips outside the bounded space

to realize me, to share its grace."

All one can do...is realize you...when we read your words...

Z'

I've never read Cormac McCarthy; that may be why I had to read this a few times. For me, the poem works best at the beginning and the end. In the former you /are/ witnessing, and what you see is what it is because you've seen it as you have: the star "gushes granite steam" (a wonderful image) and kindles with "pure, blinding white" both because (in a sense) that is what stars do and because it's what nature means to your soul. The musicality of "waltzing in orbits grand and great... elliptical royalty, parading in place" exists both because planets keep their periods and because nature has a rhythm for you. You're enacting your subject, which I quite like.

In stanzas four and five-- four in particular-- you seem to stop doing it and start talking about it, which is less compelling to me. I understand that you're trying to push beyond what you can witness, but I think that idea comes back in at the end, around the dinner table, with the thought of your own life witnessed from beyond. That perhaps that is what grace is.

It's a strong poem, Tom. Just my opinion, but those two stanzas might benefit from a little tinkering, or may not be strictly necessary to the power of the piece.

observe the images, feel no reaction
with inner seeing eye
all witnessed without emotion faction
values don't apply

the eyes of god, the mind of man
in time and space are blending
the mystery opened like a fan
some answers indefinitely pending

Tom, this poem rocks and mightily spins with meteors smashing meter
You stretch beyond the mundane world and and set my thoughts a teeter

Barbary - Yes, The Crossing is my first of his. Desolate physically is an apt description. Thanks for reading and sharing.

Z' - I take that as a great compliment, thank you. If I can get a part of myself across, then I've had at least a small bit of success.

Thanks, Dean, that's nice of you. I owe this idea to another, though I'll take credit for trying to muddle the thought. I'm very happy you enjoyed it.

James, I really appreciate your comments, and the aid in making revision. I did make some edits in an effort to follow what you were suggesting. I'm not 100% sure I got your message, so I'd be curious to get your reaction to the change.

Amy - Yes. Of course, in fact we are looking at the past, which is mind-blowing enough. Your compliments are so sweet. Thank you for your generosity.

Jan - The Bhangra-twirling Jan - you've grasped the heart of this in your omniscient prose. How do we know what we're seeing if we don't even know how or where to look?

Thank you for your beautiful comment/reaction - I'm adding it to my treasure-trove.

Eloquence from the cosmic prism, Tom. Translucent enough for visual artists to begin a new canvas, or for the writer in search of new stars. Galaxies of thought spread across the unfathomable universe, in unspeakable realm....save for the poet who unearths the ore and orb, and spreads unmeasured table before our planetarium eyes.

Tom--I couldn't handle this poem at all earlier in the day when I tried to cruise through in a moment between classes, and even tonight when all is quiet I am still grateful for those who have commented and interpreted before me; they helped me grasp what you seem to be up to here. Your inspiration seems deep and far away as if you were the voice of a star yourself in a celestial game of telephone where nothing can be easily interpreted from so far away. I'm awed by your language here, especially in that climactic ending. I am probably most confused by what the boundary of will is, because this feels like a central question in my life--how do I break through the limits which seem to bind my own will? This resonates deeply in me...

Glenn - The poetry in your reflection adds a brilliant texture. Thank you for reading and for sharing your grand reflection. You always bring grace and beauty to the table.

Gerry - That you would come back a second time is flattering, and I appreciate your effort to unravel my spilled guts. No willpower will allow you to step completely outside yourself, or this universe, to peer in as objective observer. And even if we could, how do we know that what we might see was objectively real? Material objects are made up of 99% space, and yet, we see the object, not the space. Why?

At the same time, our worlds and boundaries are in many ways a function of what we see. There's an old thought that nothing really exists until we experience it, the tree falling in the forest. And so the "nexus" of meeting walls in my office disappears as I move to a new part of the house and my universe of possibility changes. Except for me. Wherever I go, I am still unable to step away. And if I don't exist without a witness, then, what am I?

After I read the second stanza, I had to start over because it seemed the first stanza a definition that would be used in defining yourself in the next stanza. The third stanza kept the theme, but seemed to shift focus into some sort inner debate that questioned not only the reasons your existence but also that of God. Your last stanza seems somewhat a feeling of futility is realizing the only real answers you can know are birth, death you've seen and death you will someday know. In a way, the final stanza seemed like it was Buddhist thought.

If you find time to read one of my articles, I think you will like my 'Insinuation' poem. It has evoked quite a lot of strong emotional comments.

Tom, a mystical event happened here. You wrote these words for us to read and opened the sly back door to show us the soul of the universe.
Great thoughts.
I meandered from the 'inside' to the 'outside' and back to a deeper 'inside' again.

Hi Tom
I was fascinated by the third verse. I'm conscious of that boundary that you so grandly paint.
It's that boundary that haunts me and I think that my writing is my attempt to look at the other side. But no no I don't want to "sneak to spy"... I want to see the glorious heavenly world to become visible to me on its own volition...why???...because I believe in it so much.

Thank you Tom for this great thought provoking poem. It's about and it's in anr dimension. Well done. I toast you.

I think you've strengthened the language, Tom. From that stanza onward to "Attention shifts--" where you seem to return to your "office world"-- it sounds as if you're trying to illustrate an attempt and failure of perception beyond physical reality, which is a tricky thing to do in words. Am I on the right track with that?

William - Thanks for the thoughtful response to my work. I was really hoping to paint a description of a universe that appeared because we chose to look at it as a universe. The penultimate stanza uses "witness" as a verb, as if to say that things exist only in our witness of them, and so the concluding stanza is simply a query - what is it that, through its grace, allows me to exist?

Minnie - It may be a fleeting glimpse, and maybe we can't be sure what we've seen, but thank you for recognizing the opportunity to look and grow through the exercise.

Fred - I completely understand, and I hope that this glorious world is revealed to you in all its majesty. Thank you so much for your insight and comment.

James - Yes, you are. How does one describe what happens outside our universe? How can we look at ourselves from outside? How would it look if we could somehow comprehend? I really appreciate your comments and interest. Please feel free to offer any other criticism or suggestion.

great poem...

There is such strength in the core voice that quests within this poem, framing boundaries and testing their strength against the imagination and dreams and fantasies that carry the soul's neverending thrust and thirst for reconnection with the Source that eludes all rational testing and analysis.

"What slips outside the bounded space

to realize me, to share its grace."

The eye within these words acknowledges its self-awaeness keenly and
takes delight in the invitations to be seen and touched for the grace that resonates into these words through the Lights that teased them into being, twinkling above
like little torches mapping pathways for wordless inner constellations to find mirrored splendor and embrace.

This is a delicious positioning of multiple voices within and without self, co-authoring
a consciousness that hungers and feasts on mystery and beauty and seeks its own witnessing. I loved this, Tom!

I'll just comment on the assured tone, the weight well planted. Very satisfying, Tom.

Manoj - Thank you for reading and sharing your kind words. I am now heading to read some of your recent work.

Laura - Yes, this is about boundaries and what may be beyond. You've read this better than I could, as you insightfully parallel the inner constellations with the twinkling universe as they see their own reflections in each other and so embrace as one.

a consciousness that hungers and feasts on mystery and beauty and seeks its own witnessing.

I posed the question, and perhaps you have answered it for me. As we awaken to enlightenment, maybe we ARE the witness of which I seek. Laura - you rock!

John - Sometimes the best gifts come in small packages. I feel satisfied to hear that you find in this poem, if I interpret you correctly, growth. From my admittedly biased perspective, I would agree with that sentiment, so to hear it from you is a rewarding and affirming thing. Thanks for your thoughts - I always appreciate them.

Raven Spirit Knowing - such generous words from a spirit such as yours are humbling. And ironic, in that 3-1/2 months ago, I returned to writing, in part, as an exercise for the right brain, as I was convinced I was a left-brain automaton, unable to experience all but the black and white. And so your comments are doubly heartfelt. I do a better job of seeing the beauty in things today (in more than just an intellectual way), and I owe some of this to the community of support here.

I do still have to work hard to see beauty in traffic. ;-)

Raven - you made me chuckle as well, but inside I know that good humor is a fragile thing when confronted with more than the thought of the line...especially since the only seem to devilishly appear when I am in a hurry...which come to think of it, seems like most of the time. My own recent self-commitment is to allow myself more time so as to eliminate the breeding ground for these things. Perhaps I'll have to work my way up to looking forward to enjoying them.

Rose - As one with a well-worn communion with the heavens (so obvious in many of the photos you share) your comments reward and warm my heart. These are old and ubiquitous questions, and that you think they are worth publishing is quite an ego boost. Thank you for sharing your writing and comments with me; I'm glad we connected.

Tom, you emailed about your dissatisfaction with this poem. Well, looking at this through dissatisfaction's lens...

I can make several points, and suggest a path of reworking.

S1L4-5 - are burning gushing-granite-steam and blinding-white all subjects of reflect? That's a bit of a tripper-upper for me. If yes, then "all" in front of "reflect" would keep me on board.

S2L6 - you want elliptical (two els). And since all this is an imagination generated from astronomers' photos, I can only find you out there observing if you are super-natural in some way. (Which in fact humans are, but per the scientists, we're only complex animals.)

S3 - "that wall" -- the end of the universe? Meaning the end in time, or the limit in space? "The planes of God..." is a beautiful line, but it, too, is an imagination, and not concrete enough for me to quite feel what you make of it, and then the passion you express for seeing beyond it.

S4 - "behind that point" -- the infinite compression of the big bang moment? a black hole? The second half of this stanza I'm not getting, really.

The shorter stanzas become more personal, more tangible (though which sense of kalpa, ritual or aeon, I'm not sure, or in what way unique).

S6 is getting very right, but then I can't figure the last line. "Witness" noun or verb? "each thing" -- song? births and deaths? trees sky rain?

S7 finally comes to complete clarity; but does not clarify the questions above.

So, the path of reworking I'd suggest is to expand everything (in a working version) to complete explicitness and clarity (and forget rhyming for the moment). Flatten it to prose. Make it clear, however many words are required. Then start repacking it. My aunt in China in the 1930s learned to pack clothes so that a box of them felt like bricks.

And consider, I would say, letting go of rhyme completely. With "kalpa unique" and "annihilations tweak" -- when roused to criticism -- I am not happy. You seem to be trading comprehension for an effect, in a poem that aims at ultimate meanings.

"Oooh-kay," you may reply, as a Russian colleague of mine liked to say, speaking volumes with the long-distended ooooooh.

John - Enormous thanks for your careful and specific comments. I'd finished a revision this morning, (caught elliptical) and it all makes sense to me :-) so I overlooked many of the issues you bring up.

I do agree it needs to have more clarity, and this was a main point of my dissatisfaction.

Oooooo-kay. Now to overlay my revision with your thoughts.

By now I thought I'd come back to find many suggestions for revision from the brilliant thinkers here, and I'm surprised that there are not more. I don't have John's powers, or at least not the will to think them through, so I'll just remark that I very much loved the reply you gave to my comments and pondered why I didn't come away from the poem itself with those magnificent ideas you expressed there.

I am reminded of two things--the concept of the "ultimate observer" in the movie "What the Bleep do We Know?" wherein we strive to step a bit outside ourselves and see ourselves as others might, all supported with many twists of quantum physics. Then there is the concept of detachment within Toltec teachings, which is simply that by not attaching emotionally to the world around us, we give ourselves precious moments to ponder our choices before we actually take them.

So I'm not sure that this is where your quest lies, but I believe that it is exactly because the universe is mostly empty space that life is really much more maleable and fluid than most of acknowledge, which doesn't help you edit your poem, but I hope it gives you enough of a thought twist to help you with what you're trying to achieve. I very much look forward to the revision.

Gerry - I'm happy you returned and look forward to your reaction to my revision. I think your comments about the ultimate observer are closer to what I'm trying to communicate, in the context of a look at our universe, and the conjecture that we might step beyond to look back in an objective way.

Thanks Gerry!

Exceptional verse, Tom, with a keen insight into the place where realization of our paltry existence before and after the idea of a God has taken us. Cormac ramped you up to this ¨starstuff¨, and his uncompromising view to me is in a way a furtherance of Samuel Beckett and Albert Camus´vision of staring straight at our plight as undelivered beings.

As with the best of McCarthy--I am thinking of Blood Meridian, and The Road--there is the refusal to succumb to belief, and the willingness to face the skies and the earth and realize one´s own significance and insigificance simultaneously.

Your work is maturing rapidly as you free yourself from blinders you´ve worn for years, and begin to become aware of your true potential as an artist.

John - Thank you for your understanding and reflection on this. I suppose we all have blinders to one degree or another, but I do feel I am shedding them more than accruing them. Thanks for your support, buddy.

I think you have much improved the first three stanzas in your later version.

I'm having an easier time understanding the last four stanzas in this version, but perhaps that's only because I've now seen you state the same ideas in two different ways. I love the idea of us sneaking slyly out the backdoor to try and bypass the biblical "dark glass."

You have perhaps the most apt icon I've seen here on Gather, Tom. You truly are a mind-traveler!