< the universe >

[rayheinrich]

       

                               
                                < the universe >
                               
                                upstairs
                                the rice cooks —
                               
                                i must be mindful of the time
                                the rice is not forgiving
                                done in fickle time
                                it's done and ready
                                or it's gone
                               
                                i feel like rice
                                i feel like fields again
                                or maybe corn
                                high stalks of corn
                                all lighted in a bluish light
                                that dream again
                                a crash of car on car
                                a skull
                                a body
                                off
                                and out
                                and gone
                               
                                no mention of the blood
                                the red
                                the primal red
                                the red of light
                                the light that moves inside us still rejoices
                                when the skin must split
                                must offer up its color red
                                a fountain
                                celebrating life
                                a record of the suffering
                                which makes us
                                makes us up
                               
                               
                                and here they come
                                our leaders now
                                explain what's needed now for us to hear
                                and in our illness
                                in our need
                                we look in their direction
                                help them
                                kiss them on their useful lips
                               
                                the we
                                of weapons, words, and wit
                               
                                the we
                                completely similar
                                when arguing or killing or
                                ignoring simple similarity of us and ants
                               
                                the continuity of time requires all this
                               
                                when arguing or killing or
                                the necessary burning of the ones we love
                               
                                our random molecules compel, there is no blame
                               
                                just place
                                (a place too high)
                                just space
                                (enough to stand)
                                to lean
                                to fall into the wind
                                to see, if possible, the sky
                                a skull
                                a body
                                concrete ground
                                and all these talking words
                                will drown
                                and all this questioning
                                will end
                                this injured vacuum
                                finally
                                will mend
                               
                                - - -





Image: "1,2-dihydroxyanthraquinone" - by Joseph Heinrich*
Photograph of stirred dye residue (Alizarin Red) in a glass chemical tank in a darkroom with narrow slit side lighting.
* My grandfather

[Erthona]

"i must be mindful of the time the rice is not forgiving" a slight ambiguity.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
possibly

i feel like rice
(like fields again)
or maybe corn

I don't quite why the field line is inserted between the two grains, it seems out of place, but at least drop the repetition of "I feel"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
or maybe corn
high stalks of corn
all lighted in a bluish light


Maybe

or maybe corn
high stalks (corn again is redundant)
lighted in a bluish light (all is implied)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the dream again
a crash of car on car
a skull
a body
of
and out
and gone

maybe drop the articles, and the first "and", so it doesn't sound so much like a laundry list, and give it more immediacy?


the dream again:
crash of car on car
skull
body
off
out
and gone

of course some punctuation wouldn't hurt, as the lack of it does hurt.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If I continued on it would just be more of the same. Too many unnecessary articles. Too much repetition:

"the red
the primal red
but red"

the dog
the hot dog
but dog


Just to much repetition.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In terms of intent, the focus seems distorted, are you just describing a car wreck, or anger towards the "leaders" (whoever they are, as it is so loosely defined.

and here they come
our leaders now
explain what's needed now for us to hear
________________________________________________________________

That's my take anyway,

Dale

[ChristopherSea]

I never would have guessed that the photo was a precipitate of Alizarin crimson pigment. It looks like it has the texture of crumpled red tissue paper. Wonderful, was your grandfather a chemist? A whole universe mushrooms from this microcosm. Interesting transition from white, and the rice symbolism for life/fertility/wealth, to red for blood/biology/war and suffering.

[rayheinrich]

Thanks for the suggestions Dale. I've made a few changes based on those.

My good friend (and wonderful poet) Michael Mcneilley used to say:
"The only jokes you have to explain are the bad ones."

Now if my poem had gone as planned, you'd have been sucked into the rhythm
and not needed an explanation. But... this is what I was trying to do:

This poem (like the one mentioned below) is written as a chant. A chant is
like a dance; if you screw up the rhythm you fall over. Repetition provides
some of it, but most of it depends on uniform stressing. In this poem the
first two lines are intentionally irregular, but after that it's strictly
one unstressed syllable followed by one stressed one. (While some lines are
Iambic and some are Trochaic, the I. line in an I. to T. transition has an extra
unstressed syl. at the end and the T. line in a T. to I. transition has an extra
stressed syl. at the end.)


This one is written as a chant as well:
< a window on whose other side is everything >
http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/showthread.php?tid=12785

---

I never would have guessed that the photo was a precipitate of Alizarin crimson pigment. It looks like it has the texture of crumpled red tissue paper. Wonderful, was your grandfather a chemist? A whole universe mushrooms from this microcosm. Interesting transition from white, and the rice symbolism for life/fertility/wealth, to red for blood/biology/war and suffering.

My grandfather was a barber but one of his hobbies was photography.
So he knew a bit about chemistry from that. But he learned a lot more
from experimentation and reading. My dad became a chemical engineer
partly because of his dad's encouragement.
The reason my granddad had a tank of dye (actually he had quite a few)
was that he made color prints using dye imbibition. This is quite difficult
and very few hobbyists (or professionals for that matter) have ever
even attempted it. (His reds were to die for!!)

[ChristopherSea]

That's a great story Ray. Coincidently, my Grandfather was a barber as well! He also sang opera and played the mandolin. Unfortunately, he died of cancer when I was only a year old.

I had a chemistry and biology lab in my basement as a child and was staining may hands, clothing, the benches, etc. I kept my Mom busy cleaning up after me. We certainly use a lot of dyes as biological stains and indicators in research and development. However, I became more familiar with Alizarin as a watercolor artist. It's an essential red! Thanks for the explanation and poetry post.