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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535624" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mimimus Lectures Himself - Pluribus Not Unus, Culpas Minor - Upon American Bards</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">.<br>I pose you you're question: <br>shall you uncover honey / where maggots are? <br> - Charles Olson</div><div style="margin:10px 0">myself<br>the intruder, as he was not - Robert Creeley</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>1</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O great light inward, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">which cannot (what can) <br>be said of America obsessed with manners<br>no matter the carnage stretched to dry<br>in a land where, Vonnegut clear here, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'love may fail but politeness shall prevail.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blind, yes. As yet can't, perhaps refused, <br>reconcile the projected landscape, the leaking vessel, <br>landlocked, of State, Vespucius Vestibulis, Topeka grasping<br>still, scratching at collective far flung coastal doors<br>for the 'in between' is no place to be. <br>All things gray there, politely, <br>plus visionaries, artists, hog-tied, <br>flee though are, ironically, there born.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And have not been gripped, me, <br>'cept by proxy, as were these<br>'just' poets - justified - trying to true <br>variant visions into One, no matter<br>imprecision of facts, imposed muddles they be, <br>O Topeka ongoingly o're and o're, ore of meanings <br>which are all spelt 'MESSIAH' - always this begins<br>and ends such messes entire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still we call it a country.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>2</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Reading two still continentally <br>shifting greats, Olson, Pound, <br>of late full of their breath, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Of thee I sing' America's over-long exhalation<br>in Whitman's overlong beard and o're shadowing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rest of us in their vacuum <br>remain, wander, poems <br>strapped to faces like respirators, <br>every out breath labored, <br>ponderous, poised, has their <br>stench but is a good one what <br>keeps on giving though ship be <br>foundered from the start <br>(see ahead to Odysseus <br>cyclopean trickstering) .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These, <br>others, <br>seek for -<br> <br>all mining after, <br>pining amongst<br>the pinons, <br>insisting on -</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O absolution, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">that 'it is only that<br>the light, o great light, <br>of the land projected, <br>was in our eyes and we<br>could only see our way<br>to slash, kill toward said projected.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blindly now, <br>still, we seek looking back, vision, <br>darker inhabitants<br>diseased off, <br>killed, or shipped<br>on good Christian ships, <br>borders now paced of 'good citizens'<br>hungry for even more darker blood, <br>'enough' not a democratic word, <br>but 'more' (to Boesky asked <br>how much is enough? He, 'A little more') . <br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O blinding light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Odysseus to Polyphemus<br>the real issue here, entitled marauder, <br>the unspoken, disavowing thief.<br>Every shipwrecked citizen located in <br>Odysseus's answer he to Polyphemus, <br>one-eyed, mono-visioned shepherd <br>mourning his lost ones <br>(lost to Kingly entitled hand) , <br>safe-keeper, <br>none too bright<br>but constant, <br>faith-keeping, <br>Odysseus-blinded, <br>who calls out, <br>Who are you who unsights me, <br>scatters my sheep? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Odysseus, wily -</div><div style="margin:10px 0">cleverness, not faith, <br>is rewarded, the valued<br>in this projected land - </div><div style="margin:10px 0">calls back, <br>not afflicted of conscience, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I am No Man! ' </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>This the dilemma of all these<br>our projected land's inhabitants, <br>Citizens No Man, willfully ignorant<br>(the greatest sin) or wide-eyed <br>pretending. Odysseus<br>in sheep skin more the predator, <br>'No One' lobbing rocks, <br>pretending to shepherd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let's name it true, Empire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>3</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Monet might have seen, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">giving darkness in Giverny, <br>defiant to the last optics fired out inevitably, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">nerve light made the more dipped, smeared<br>on clutched pallet bent to his gaping will.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some yawping yank, <br>all sneeze and no hanky, <br>yelling, 'shut yer mouth ope'd, no manners, '<br>Claude struggling to 'ope' eyes, <br>wider see.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was failing him the light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Closing-in world reduced to all horizon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tints, brushes, memory<br>frames these final pieces<br>canvased, inwardly conformed, <br>recalled light more light than all raw day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>4</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the other hand I have only tried<br>to survive, swollen small, myself, <br>find ways to be in it at all, appalled<br>hero shrunk to size, compensation<br>for grandness, a player 'pon an acre<br>of God on yon Calvin's hill, ol' John<br>yawning counts his sins a school<br>boy his sums, insistent dirt<br>(because it's there) persistent<br>cleaning his nails; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">but tilled I Bible, <br>King James, <br>preferred work that, <br>sounds therein<br>instilled instead <br>a-poem-ing then<br> <br>off at last from <br>roller holy hill, <br>a love affair oracular, called, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the Word out-wrung, wrenched, <br>I always the winch and never the Bride. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Again poetic little feet tracing circles, little breaths that may make a one </div><div style="margin:10px 0">entire</div><div style="margin:10px 0">once expired.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>5</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I, Minimus, tongue in cheek, creak oar, row out too<br>into the Homeric sea, not old Greek singer, long of breath, <br>but as Winslow, local seer, his paints, straw hat consigned<br>to mistook heroics, pure accident, not to check radio<br>maritime, ask captain if row boat worthy of even an<br>American sea, projected too, can go a-row row rowing, <br>claw oar into wave tips' whitecaps safe perimeters, <br>smell of earth nasal-yet to keep oriented to dirt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have, instead, reaped I redundant whirlwind <br>play America the Fool again, naively trusting my, <br>and country's, destiny are one, always good in spite<br>of Melville's long eloquent 'discantus supra librum' -<br>above the book - more truing than any, to spoil it, <br>the projected 'pluribus unum' thing, for Mayflower <br>folks tripping lightly between the hawthorns, <br>their imported gardens and God, irritant tomahawks<br>'can only turn out swell, ' thought they like waves<br>gathering in sea full of themselves individually, <br>Destined, they then and do think, to break just for, <br>O America, thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now come poets each century heavier than<br>before, heavier than the other few, this new one, too, <br>only bards, a real few, to bar, board up the big gaps, <br>O great light gaping torn off, oft thee sung, <br>slung over shoulder, hauled, the burden, <br>o the load<br>it is now become.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Warren+Falcon">Warren Falcon</a><div class=q>
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I pose you you're question: 
shall you uncover honey / where maggots are? 
 - Charles Olson

myself
the intruder, as he was not - Robert Creeley


1

O great light inward, 

which cannot (what can) 
be said of America obsessed with manners
no ma..."></div>
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