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Strays


Strays

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight.
He recently invited himself in.
And the familiar of him who invites
stray thoughts into things unnavigable.

In the same way a mystic
can see and taste and touch
what is unsensible to you and me,
and can heighten what is erotic
in what you and I cannot taste, touch, see;
just this way lonely people find
inconsequentially what predicates,
what staves off a kind of reckoning.

I know this in my body to be true.

And my body knows something else:
lonely people see clean through
the likes of you and me.
They taste things and hear things, smell things
the nemo in us must shy away of
because he is territory whose territory
is a place of crenellated fear, involves
all that sees clean through us each.

It all gets so personal and incestuous.
This fear of ourselves driving us.

I admit I am afraid of lonely people too.
Their signal discovery coming to this:
they do not need me.
I can’t say yet if mystics are as frightening.
But I can say they do not need me either.

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight.
He just recently invited himself in.
And the familiar of him, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.


Tere

(editorial note. nemo is a word coined by the late novelist, John Fowles. nemo is a kind of anti-self whose function is to keep the self from wanting too much. as personality trait Fowles thought the nemo the product of civilization.)

Last edited by Terreson, Aug/7/2014, 8:45 pm
Oct/10/2009, 4:03 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
ChrisD1 Profile
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Re: Strays


Seems like these "stray thoughts" have been captured and suspended. A beautiful, fleshed-out meditation.

No nits, none.

Chris
Oct/10/2009, 6:05 pm Link to this post Send Email to ChrisD1   Send PM to ChrisD1
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


Thanks for commenting, Chrisfriend. Once again I can't tell if this is a poem or not. It certainly breaks a bunch of my own rules for how poetry proceeds. Maybe I should submit it to my own test, right it out in straight prose, check it for whether or not it has this thing called poetry of thought.

Tere
Oct/12/2009, 1:37 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
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Re: Strays


First of all, I like it the way it is. But here's a thought. The last four lines:

"A gray cat anchors my bed tonight,
she just recently invited herself in,
and the familiar of her, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.

strike me as the most 'poetic.' What if the poem were to start with the last lines and follow their lead? Again, I like it fine the way it is.

Chris
Oct/13/2009, 8:37 am Link to this post Send Email to ChrisD1   Send PM to ChrisD1
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


This is spooky, Chrisfriend. I've been wondering about the same thing, or starting rather than ending with the focal image. A part of me likes leading up to it gradually. Another part says give your reader the caption first.

Thanks much. I need to think on it.

Tere
Oct/13/2009, 6:59 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
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Re: Strays


Tere,

I read the first version of this you posted here and feel the poem is coming along well as you are tweaking it. I like starting with the gray cat as Chris suggested. It anchors the poem and gives the reader a solid jumping off point. I will come back after more refelction, but for now the first thought that comes to mind involves the line:

"in what you and I cannot taste, touch, see,"

I was wondering if "cannot" should be "do not"? I'm not sure it's that we can't do it or if it's just that we don't--?
Oct/25/2009, 1:30 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


Thanks for commenting, Kat. And, yes, Chris's suggestion makes sense to me too. I get your point about the question of can't or don't. On the other hand I tend to agree with Fowles about this psychological situation inhibiting people, or at least people who have in them too much civilization or who are too perfectly socialized. So I don't know. Thanks again.

Tere
Oct/25/2009, 12:57 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
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Re: Strays


I am bringing forward the poem. Written last Oct I flat out forgot about it. Going through my word doc today I saw the title, opened it out of curiousity about what the poem was about. Totally forgot.

This is so Tere it outTeres Tere. Language, symmetry, syntax, the asides, even the penchant for cogent argument. Or, and viewed from the flipside, it may just be a cliche, what can happen to artists when they become too bound within the parameters of their own stylistic approach: the real killer.

I notice a certain love triangle to the poem between the lonely, the mystic, and the observer; what amounts to a motif that runs through all my poetry. They say John Donne's poetry had a motif running through out: an obsession with the relationship between body and soul: where does the body begin, where does the soul end up; where does the soul come from, why does God give the miserable body, always bound to failure, something as beautiful and immortal as a soul in the first place. I figure Donne actually spoke to the single most existential problem of his Age: what is the right relationship between the carnal and the divine; a question he never answered, I figure could never answer within the religious framework of his time. My only point is to suggest all poets, all artists, work within a delimited set, a motif. Mine seems to involve a certain menage a trois.

Anyway, I should like to get this poem right. Reopened for textual crit.

Tere
Apr/17/2010, 3:00 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
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Re: Strays


poem slightly revisited.

Strays

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight.
He recently invited himself in.
And the familiar of him who invites
stray thoughts into things unnavigable.

In the same way a mystic
can see and taste and touch
what is unsensible to you and me,
and can heighten what is erotic
in what you and I cannot taste, touch, see;
just this way lonely people find
inconsequentially what predicates,
what staves off a kind of reckoning.

I know this in my body to be true.

And my body knows something else:
lonely people see clean through
the likes of you and me.
They taste things, hear things, smell things
the nemo in us must keep shy of
because his is territory whose territory
is a place of crenellated fear, involves
everything that sees clean through us each.

It all gets so personal, incestuous.
This fear of ourselves driving us.

I admit I am afraid of lonely people too.
Their signal discovery coming to this:
they do not need me.
I can’t say yet if mystics are as frightening.
But I can say they do not need me either.

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight.
He just recently invited himself in.
And the familiar of him, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.



Last edited by Terreson, Jan/9/2013, 9:57 pm
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pjouissance Profile
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Re: Strays


Hi, Tere,

"Neno" to me is Captain Nemo, so that's unduly confusing. Fowles' nemo sounds a lot like the superego...

This is a fascinating poem. What I find most interesting is that there is no indication that the narrator is anything other than the lonely person he treats like an outside object in the poem, the one he fears. The realization comes swiftly that it must be himself he fears then, when the only world expressed in the poem is that of a bed a cat enters. So to me this is a psychological exploration. What is most interesting is that I think the poem is about something else, not what is said at all:


A gray cat anchors my bed tonight,
she just recently invited herself in,
and the familiar of her, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.
(The syntax is unusual here. I would say "along with" instead of "and", as a familiar is an unfamiliar noun for a lot of people. I'd look look at those triple commas too)(I love the rhythm of the last line, but the intro of a marine word at the end is odd except for its perfect sound accent)

In the same way a mystic
can see and taste and touch
what is unsensible to you and me,
(do you use "unsensible" rather than "unsensable" for a reason?)

and can heighten what is erotic
in what you and I cannot taste, touch, see,
just this way lonely people find
(How about "in just" rather than "just?)

inconsequentially what predicates
(I would delete this line - makes the next one more powerful)

what staves off a kind of reckoning.

I know this in my body to be true.
(This litany-sounding sentence is quite extraordinary in its simplicity and definiteness)

And my body knows something else:
lonely people see clean through
(The slang here seems offkey)
the likes of you and me.
(same again)

They taste things and hear things and smell things
the nemo in us must shy from because
(here the nemo is just confounding. It's just too obscure)

he is territory whose territory
(I like this)

is a place of crenellated fear
(sounds like a castle, okay)

of everything that sees clean through us.
(too much mixing in this sentence. It's a territory whose "territory" is a castle-like place that "of everything that sees". Just confusing, IMHO)

It all gets so personal and incestuous.
(This is too telly. Maybe extend the next sentence to show an incestuous element?)

Our fear of us driving us.

I admit I am afraid of lonely people too.
(delete "I admit"?)

Their great discovery coming to this:
they do not need me.
(I don't get this. The definition of "lonely", rather than, say, isolated, autistic, or solitary people, is "desirous of the company of others", isn't it? So how could they not need others?)

I can’t say yet if mystics are as frightening.
But I can say they do not need me either.

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight,
she just recently invited herself in,
and the familiar of her, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.
(I like the repetition of this stanza)

On the whole, Tere, I'm seeing another poem entirely in this one. It's about the cat and its familiar, and how humans have familiars too, who are also in the bed. I'm not getting much from this rumination about how lonely people don't need people. How does the implied human familiar, who invites strange thoughts, comfort or alarm or frighten the N?

If I'm way off, as usual, my apologies, I do that a lot. Thanks for the posting,

Auto

Apr/23/2010, 12:51 pm Link to this post Send Email to pjouissance   Send PM to pjouissance
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


Auto, color me appreciative for both the solid comments and the time taken. Some suggestions I am already inclined to adopt. About a few of the textual comments.

In Fowles's thinking the nemo is distinct from both the ego and superego, at least as Freud used the categories. As anit-self it works against the ego's insistence on individuality, whereas the superego looks to over-ride the same by drawing the individual into a collective of some sort through the shame-on-you kind of finger pointing. (Or so I think.) Remember Melville's "Bartleby the Scrivener"? The perfect nemo. Anyway, I think Fowles was right, right too that it is the product of (too much) civilization, the end product of which is when the individual tells herself: what difference does it make what I think or want; I do not matter and can have no effect on outcomes.

Unsensible. In correct English I should have used the word insensible. I didn't, wanting to stop my reader, draw attention to a certain insensibility, what comes out of boredom and habit.

Crenellated. Castles come to mind for you. Mountain ranges made of sedimentary rock, old, weather worn, jagged, rock in which much of the earth's fossil record gets found, comes to mine.

About the loneliness thing I have two thoughts. Lonely people will tell you and me they are lonely and likely they are. What they don't admit to is that their loneliness becomes a habit, a comfort zone, a refuge from the madding crowd. They may or may not be happy. But no longer needing the company of their species becomes quite comfortable. The second thought is this. In my memory bank there are a slew of lonely people whose singularity, the staying away from people, brought about great art, great thinking, and the occassional mystic. Van Gogh staid away from people, his brother Theo especially, because he knew he was a pain in the ass, a real irritant. El Greco staid away from people as much as he could because they clouded, what he called, his inner light. E. Dickinson electively kept to her upstairs room as frequently as she could. And yet her poetry keeps speaking to all lonely hunters of the heart. F. Nietzsche? Except for maybe Montaigne, the father of the essay, he is the loneliest man of letters I've ever read. Nietzsche, the father of modern psychology according to Freud. Montaigne, the man whose literary form has spawned something in the neighborhood of 500 years, and counting, of literature devoted to questioning self-motive.

So there it is. Stray thoughts. And you are right about the cat on the bed. She walked in one night like she owned the place. Now she does.

Thanks. I'll now look again to the nuts and bolts.

Tere
Apr/23/2010, 6:58 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
pjouissance Profile
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Re: Strays


Hi, Tere,

Thanks for the explanation. I agree with your thoughts about lonely people. It does get to be comfortable, I'm sure.

About Nietzsche; maybe a lot of lonely people are like him, a not-very-attractive fellow who was so sick by age 30 that he had to resign his professorship and live in rented rooms for the last 15 years of his life. He seems to have fallen madly in love with Lou Salome; her choice of his best friend seems to have caused him to give up on romantic love. His family (mother and sister) were devout, and he was an atheist, and the friction made visiting them barely bearable. He was poor, sick, and a crackpot, as far as the world was concerned for most of his life, and then he went insane. I guess what I'm saying is that I think lonely people aren't that way by choice. I don't know what to make of his work, BTW; he was very definitely psychotic in his latter days, and I think exhibited some of that illness in his writings. On the other hand, sometimes near-psychotics say remarkable and true things.

Anyway, to get back to the poem, I did think about "unsensible" and did see the usual "insensible" possibility, but rejected that, because what you're talking about, I think, is not being comatose ("insensible"), but instead not being "sensable" in terms of the senses/perceptions. "Unsensible" to me means someone who has no common sense. What do you think of this hair-splitting?

Take care,

Auto
Apr/24/2010, 9:10 pm Link to this post Send Email to pjouissance   Send PM to pjouissance
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


Sometimes, Auto, hair splitting can be fun, especially with someone who knows about Lou Salome. What a beauty she must have been. A thinker too. When she was 18 Nietzsche worshipped her. I've seeen a photograph of N with another man tethered to a carriage like horses and with Salome riding. She would go on to collaborate with Freud in Vienna. She would also take a young Rilke in hand, take him as her lover while making a man out of him. By the way, it was a particularly virulent form of syphillis that did N in, in effect eating away at his brain. Pretty ironic, huh? The last philosopher, as he thought of himself, and the father of modern psychology, according to Freud, attacked in the brains.

Anyway, I'll think on what you are saying. It is both sensible and sensable. (Couldn't resist.)

Tere
Apr/25/2010, 12:18 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
pjouissance Profile
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Re: Strays


Hi, Tere,

Well, there is now some doubt that it was syphilis that did N in. His symptoms began at 30, etc etc. I have a theory that he remained a virgin, based on his physical problems, his strict religious upbringing, and the Lou story. Apparently they may have kissed -- that's all. That photo of Lou with the riding whip -- that was N's friend, who she chose over N. N supplied the riding whip. She asked N to remain friends with both of them and even live with them, which he tried. The frustration must have been monstrous. In his writings I feel a twisted romantic.

There are photos of Lou online. Also, there's a marvelous poetic book caleed Nietzsche's Kisses that just came out that you might enjoy. It fictionalizes the night of N's death, his dreams and thoughts about his life.

Auto
Apr/30/2010, 2:48 pm Link to this post Send Email to pjouissance   Send PM to pjouissance
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


Thanks for the book suggestion, Auto. Another book to read would be Thomas Mann's Doctor Faustus novel. Not about but incited by Nietzsche. Early on, and unlike many readers who still and falsely associate Nietsche's superman notion with the racist views many Germans would adopt, Mann got that Nietzsche's whole sale rejection of Wagner and Wagnerism amounted to a rejection of the future Mann himself saw for Germany.

Tere
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Re: Strays


Hi Tere,

I've been thinking about your use of "lonely people" in this poem. I'm not sure lonely is the right adjective. Solitary might be better or a noun like loner. Hermit is too strong, but I think you are identifying something about people who are reclusive, withdrawn from society and who, as you point out up thread, may or may not be lonely. Well, I guess lonely is the best word after all, but I wish there was a better word in English to describe the state/attitude/capacity you are going after. I can see why a stray cat brought this to mind. There is something solitary about most cats, especially strays.
May/11/2010, 1:52 pm Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


Chuckling, Kat. You just did what I did last Oct., looking for the right adjective only to come back to lonely. Alone people was the only alternative I could think of, but it seemed to arch for me. Thanks for coming back.

Tere
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Re: Strays


I really like the second version of this later in the thread. Tighter. I came to this from This is This thread so know that you later found out that the cat was a he. You could change that in the poem -- after reading your field note about him I kind of like the idea of his maleness being acknowledged in the poem. Maybe I'm silly.
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Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


Thanks, vkp. Good point.

Tere
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Re: Strays


Terreson,

I think the beginning and end anchor the poem nicely. I would have liked a more integrated approach though, with the cat theme a bit more present. However, the concept and the language are good. I felt "predicates" was a bit elevated in comparison with the rest of the language, but that's just a preference and probably holds no weight. You and Auto certainly carried out a good conversation. She's done such a thorough job, the rest of us could skate if we wanted to. You're pushing the envelop a bit on this, in a good way. Zak

quote:

Terreson wrote:

Strays

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight,
she just recently invited herself in,
and the familiar of her, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.

In the same way a mystic
can see and taste and touch
what is unsensible to you and me,
and can heighten what is erotic
in what you and I cannot taste, touch, see,
just this way lonely people find
inconsequentially what predicates
what staves off a kind of reckoning.

I know this in my body to be true.

And my body knows something else:
lonely people see clean through
the likes of you and me.
They taste things and hear things and smell things
the nemo in us must shy from because
he is territory whose territory
is a place of crenellated fear
of everything that sees clean through us.

It all gets so personal and incestuous.
Our fear of us driving us.

I admit I am afraid of lonely people too.
Their great discovery coming to this:
they do not need me.
I can’t say yet if mystics are as frightening.
But I can say they do not need me either.

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight,
she just recently invited herself in,
and the familiar of her, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.


Tere

(editorial note. nemo is a word coined by the late novelist, John Fowles. nemo is a kind of anti-self whose function is to keep the self from wanting too much. as personality trait Fowles thought the nemo the product of civilization.)



Jun/11/2012, 9:55 am Link to this post Send Email to Zakzzz5   Send PM to Zakzzz5
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Strays


You're right Zak. Poem pushes a certain envelope. I think that is why it intices me.

Thanks for your comments.

Tere
Jun/13/2012, 7:37 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
queenfisher Profile
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Re: Strays


dear tere

your poem compels me to look up the literal meaning of the words: lonely, alone, solitary, isolated - there's def. a new concept of 'lonely people' here as you've almost equated them to the level of mystics:

in the same way a mystic
can see and taste and touch
what is unsensible to you and me,
and can heighten what is erotic
in what you and I cannot taste, touch, see,
just this way lonely people find
inconsequentially what predicates
what staves off a kind of reckoning.

I know this in my body to be true.

without splitting hairs as to the meaning of lonely - the fact that you've given 'lonely people' the status you have i find quite interesting

also the fact that they can see clean thru:
the likes of you and me.
They taste things and hear things and smell things
the nemo in us must shy from because
he is territory whose territory
is a place of crenellated fear
of everything that sees clean through us.

if i'm to understand correctly their essence or mystic qualities spring from a place of fear? it is a complicated poem with complex thoughts so my attempt at understanding is very limited -i feel like a fool rushing in where angels fear to tread - & i feel it's one of those poems where angels definitly will fear to tread!

or perhaps it's us wherein fear resides?

It all gets so personal and incestuous.
Our fear of us driving us.

limited understanding notwithstanding i really like these lines - i can get the essence of it feel it rather than understand
yes life could be quite like that where everything gets personal and incestuous - 'our fear of us driving us' interesting that you should say fear of us driving us rather than fear driving us.

i would be afraid of lonely people too - they sound positively dangerous - not because they don't need me but for all those other things

i would say thank god the gray cat anchors my bed tonight otherwise all these stray unnavigable thoughts would toss me on the high seas i would not only be lonely alone solitary isolated but also lost - for me the cat symbolizes touching base after unknown flights.

also your further comments make me wonder whether art springs from loneliness or the urge of being alone? an artist seeks to be alone - personally when i paint or write i shun company - in extreme cases for geniuses i suppose it becomes a habit - art is an anti-social activity - even scientists need to be alone to make all those discoveries

your poem sure has encouraged stray thoughts very unnavigable



   

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Re: Strays


also i've been reading a poem by a spiritualist woman who resided in Abu by the name of Vimla Thakar the poem is called: The Solitary Traveler

some excerpts:

being solitary
is utterly different from being lonely

A lonely person
pines for company of another
in aloneness -
there is the glory of fulfillment of life

in loneliness
there is the burning fire of waiting
in aloneness
there is fulfillment aflame
in loneliness
the frightening ghost of emptiness
in aloneness
there is the sweet music of silence resounding

the solitary traveller of such solitude
has no path, no direction, no goal
the journey through life of
such a solitary traveler
is soundless, timeless, mysterious

that is how the motiveless journey
of the solitary traveler
on the solitary path
goes on and on and on...


i've not quoted in exact order -

but these are her words & her opinion & it's just coincidental that i just finished reading the book from where it's quoted

 



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I just wanted to mention that for me "nemo" reads as "no one" which is what it means in Latin. Might be one of the only things I retained from studying that darned language. When I read your poem the first time through that reading gave the third stanza an interesting meaning. Anyway. Kinda cool that that one word can be taken in so many ways. Loved the poem!
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Re: Strays


I'm tickled Magy. Thank you for that. I am by no means a Latin scholar, not even a pass/fail student. Unless it be to fail. Sounds like you and Fowles, the novelist who coined the term, nemo, for describing a certain psychic element, are.

So here's Fowles's aphorism defining his sense of the nemo in us all. He thought of it as a fourth psychic element to be added to Freud's three of super-ego, ego, and id.

~But I believe each human psyche has a fourth element, which, using a word indicated by the Freudian terminology, I call the nemo. By this I mean not only 'nobody' but also the state of being nobody - 'nobodiness'. In short, just as physicists now postulate an anti-matter, so must we consider the possibility that there exists in the human psyche an anti-ego. This is the nemo.

No one or nobody. Or as the Beatles sang it, a nowhere man. Your Latin is spot on. And Fowles took the word to describe a psychic element or circumstance he observed. Fowles was also of the opinion that this nemo element or function was, is, a product of civilization. What he meant I think is that civ has to convince every individual in the collective that they are no one, nobody, nowhere in order to maintain its steady state. I've always hated that about civ.

I almost forgot, Magy. If interested in translated Latin poems, go to our In Translation forum. There you will find a selection of poems by Catullus translated into English by an old, old friend of mine I managed to coax out of hiding for awhile. You might get a kick out of what he has to say about translating from Latin too. I would post the link to the thread here except the forum is for members only. No content up for public consumption.


Tere

Last edited by Terreson, Jun/22/2012, 4:26 pm
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Re: Strays


Hey Tere

while I like the ideas behind this, the language feels flat - lacking music and rhythm, more a rambling sort of contemplation than a poem per se, the start of an essay.

It does remind me however of an evolving relationship I've had recently with a cat who lives in my neighbourhood, a big ginger/white striped male (really big, actually) who is quite assertive when he wants a pat and took to following me around when I walked outside. He's good company. Anyway, I walked outside oneday and saw that a cat had been hit and killed on the road during the night - it looked large and like it had been ginger, and I was a bit upset about it. A few weeks later I walked in my front gate and, lo and behold, the big friendly ginger had returned. He tagged my leg, followed me into the complex, and I gave him a good long pat. My missus isn't really a cat lover but she wasn't home yet so I left the door open and he followed me up 3 flights of stairs and made himself quite at home - had a sit down on the sofa, a bit of a roll around on the cool kitchen floor, and even had the temerity to sit at the fridge door and with a paw try to open it. He stayed about an hour and then left.

It also reminds me of my mother's cat, who is nearing 20 years old now and gets a bit confused about things. A couple of months ago she was crossing the road to meet us as we got out of the car and a big car drove slowly down the street. Instead of getting out of the way, she sized it up, made her petit frame as large as she could, and hissed at the encroaching car. The driver was bemused. 'She's getting old and doesn't understand the difference between animals and cars anymore' we told him.

Anyway, I hope things are going alright with you. Flick me a PM when you have a chance and give me a bit of an update.

sam




quote:

Terreson wrote:

Strays

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight,
she just recently invited herself in,
and the familiar of her, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.

In the same way a mystic
can see and taste and touch
what is unsensible to you and me,
and can heighten what is erotic
in what you and I cannot taste, touch, see,
just this way lonely people find
inconsequentially what predicates
what staves off a kind of reckoning.

I know this in my body to be true.

And my body knows something else:
lonely people see clean through
the likes of you and me.
They taste things and hear things and smell things
the nemo in us must shy from because
he is territory whose territory
is a place of crenellated fear
of everything that sees clean through us.

It all gets so personal and incestuous.
Our fear of us driving us.

I admit I am afraid of lonely people too.
Their great discovery coming to this:
they do not need me.
I can’t say yet if mystics are as frightening.
But I can say they do not need me either.

A gray cat anchors my bed tonight,
she just recently invited herself in,
and the familiar of her, who
invites stray thoughts on things unnavigable.


Tere

(editorial note. nemo is a word coined by the late novelist, John Fowles. nemo is a kind of anti-self whose function is to keep the self from wanting too much. as personality trait Fowles thought the nemo the product of civilization.)



Jun/26/2012, 5:22 am Link to this post Send Email to sambyfield   Send PM to sambyfield
 
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Re: Strays


Thanks, Sam for the assessment. I get that you would roundly pan the poem. I might too eventually but not yet. What you call flattened out tone I hear in the atonal way. A mode I think appropriate to the poem's idea. As always, thanks.

Tere
Jul/9/2012, 10:25 am Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 


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