SECTION THIRTEEN
POETRY PAGE NINE
sm
COLUMN
FIFTY-EIGHT, APRIL 1, 2001
(Copyright © 2001 Al Aronowitz)
(Photo by Mary Rudge)
D A R C H I T E C T U R E
poem i
before
i know who i am
i
know i am
in
the incense of their
my
mother & my father's
intensity
to not think of making love but
to
make love i
smell myself
a
gold liquid spinning off
light
flecks flicking
flinging
in the
aftersmoke
of our ahhhmen
i
join my mother & my father in
a
bead of light
my
skin
gold
liquid honeysuckle cradle
i
feel my flailing arms wings
the
long stem my father is
in
my mother's acute flower
yes
i
slip through the gold fluid they
moan
as if so much love
aches
them to make
their
own eden
yes
before
i know anything
i
know everything
yes
i know
all
is one
yes
i know
honor
you
yes
i know
honor
me
yes
i know
love's
divine
yes
i know
yield
my will
yes
i know
seek
the truth
yes
i know
live
now now
yes
i
hover in love's darchitecture
a
holding at point zero to be
i
hover in love’s darchitecture for lifetimes of months
where
they press me to
the
all's purple lips
so
i can hear & know intimately the
complete
metaphysics of this ahhhmen gift
so
i can find my way to what i will be called
if
not petal then dirt
if
not earth then air
if
not breath then love
i
will be called any one of a
thousand
worthy names i
hear
zooming off the
purple
lips of nine months inside ahhhmen
inside
the blood tapestries of air
inside
the labyrinth circuits of gold fluid i
thirst
on in my firsting
to
be the light of my name
*
* *
anatomy of a spirit
Reference
here:
Anatomy
of the Spirit: The Seven Stages of Power and Healing
Caroline
Myss PhD Harmony Books Crown
Publishers NY
1996
in
which Dr. Myss asserts "all physical
and emotional obstacles are illusions" (See page 79, figure 5: The Divine Power within Our
Biological Design)
*
* *
loci
a
where aware
darchitecture
holding
point at zero to be
could
be
here
there anywhere
a
womb a tomb a room a
djun djun
*
* *
thee bridge there & back
inside
out
it's
not all that different
inside
out the darchitecture's
as
daddy would say
same
difference
&
mommy oh yeahhhh
outside
in
yeah
oh mommy &
difference
same
say
would daddy as
is
darchitecture the out inside
different
that all not is it
back
& there bridge thee
*
* *
let
me explain you how the all sounds
whoosh
whoosh whooshibba shibba shibbop
&
si sooooooooooooo & so si si so &
shibba
shibba &
then
the all say ya dig
*
* *
my
little i in tribe
i
gush from one wet world to another
it’s
daddy teaches me to swim
i
feel my flailing arms fins
to
begin on his courage
i
go in alone
ha
ha ha ha splash i can splash splash do this ha ha ha ha
plunk
plunk where’s the plunk plunk bottom
daaaaaaa
plunk ddy
from
beach slope picnic perch with ma to me in dadoseconds
i
am a mess of salt snot shivering knot around his neck
the
ocean’s a snappy playful shark
unhappy
i cannot take a joke
i
lock in daddy until i can laugh & try again
a
where aware
darchitecture
holding
point at zero to be
could
be
here
there anywhere
a
womb a tomb a room a
djun djun
i
jump out daddy & ma into
the
snappy playful tribe
i
touch the walls of the tribe
their
barb their dialect
their flag their fence
their
waste their baggage
i
try to get the joke
&
i ask
is
it my little i in t-r-i-b-e?
a
where aware
darchitecture
holding
point at zero to be
could
be
here
there anywhere
a
womb a tomb a room a
djun djun
is
it my Big I come talking placenta
naked
as grape skin &
boasting
what slips my vine is wine in
the
form of poems
a
where aware
darchitecture
holding
point at zero to be
could
be
here
there anywhere
a
womb a tomb a room a
djun djun
why
do i love the word together so
when
i come talking together
mostly
from inside the wall of my Big I self
a
where aware
darchitecture
holding
point at zero to be
could
be
here
there anywhere
a
womb a tomb a room a
djun djun
i
am a child pronouncing t-r-Big I-b-e to-get-her
but
when i learn it t-r-little i-b-e to gather yeah together
what
flows through me are rivers &
the
word is a bridge
a
where aware
darchitecture
holding
point at zero to be
could
be
here
there anywhere
a
womb a tomb a room a
djun djun
*
* *
boom for real crack up room: laughing is crying
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
t-r-Big
I-b-e
the
barb the lock the dialect the flag the fence
is
what i see
what
i know is t-r-little i-b-e
all
is one
honor
you
honor
me
love’s
divine
seek
the truth
yield
my will
live
now now
what
i know is
i
myself am a darchitecture
a
holding at point zero to be
at
all times a construct of perception
seen
& seeing
touched
& touching
&
so much more
i
am a place telling myself
i
am here when i perceive i arrive
i
tell myself
you
are i say to myself
in
the all’s shibba shibba shibba ya dig kinda way
you
are taking yourself too seriously
before
i
go back in the boom for real crack up room
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
used to love the boom for real crack up room
better
than a comedy of horrors
i
used to love the boom for real crack up room
for
the boom of it
now
i love it like a mirror
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
say to myself
this
room is nothing more than a comedy of horrors of who i have been
&
i say to myself in all sincerity
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
if
i laugh loose of this comedy of horrors
won’t
i be free
won’t
i be free
won’t
i
i
tell myself this is not the time to make light of horror
i
tell myself i am not ready to laugh
i
tell myself i must
i
tell myself this one
about
old farthead hitler’s enema bag
about
how a little fart can really hurt a lot &
if
hitler had been a better speller he would have known then
r-o-l-a-i-d-s
spells relief
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
get
it
no
gas problem
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself
this
one is better than aluminum foil in the first microwave
babies’
arms in hiroshima
blow
their babies’ hands in the air
act
like you just don’t care
part
over here
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself
replace
hiroshima with any place any time
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself
replace
their with our
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself this one
about
the africans slavetraded
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
say we had to prove to the world africans can get somewhere early
so
get it we got all the
way to america
early
for english as a second language class
or
was it early for second class
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself this is better than
schizo
j. red dress hoover dressing up his seventeen
transvestite
personalities &
telling
himself screw you
no screw you
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
ask myself
why
must i break it down for you like this
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
say to myself
you
cannot even say your comedy of horrors
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
without
feeling sad
i
say to myself
laugh
loose from this b movie of self
the
one in which
the
half live man is dragged through
the
broken window’s jagged glass
inch
by inch
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
must laugh loose
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself i am not ready
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
tell myself i must prepare
to
laugh en fin not at how vicious upon myself i have been
but
to laugh one day
at
what a fool i have been
to
have so viciously misunderstood my purpose
&
to ask myself
what
took you so long
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
*
* *
a
hole in my whole:
"all
physical and emotional obstacles are illusions"
ha
ha ho ho hee hee
i
get it
here
is where i perceive the all
the
darchitecture
the
light of my name
one
& the same
here
i am not needy
i
read & understand
anatomy
of the spirit:
the
seven stages of healing & power
i
learn
all
physical & emotional obstacles are illusions
i
move on
i
step through the seven stages of my being
based
not in imperfection but in perfection
hah
i
move on as if this poem is ajar asking & answering
why
did i ever see horror as safe harbor
i
move on to a new darchitecture
where
where
light comes i come love
yes
feigning my absences is a cheap cosmic trick
i
am here
aware
anywhere
a
room a tomb a womb a djun djun
i
am here with you
my
other self
necessary
& not needy
familiar
with a thousand darchitectures
a
thousand taos
a
thousand holdings at point zero to be
&
knowing
my
name is grass
follow
my green skirts to a wall
where
i started to dance but changed my mind i couldn’t
my
name is funny jar
twist
it closed before it opens
&
in it
i
am enough
well
enough of this poem
it’s
time to party
i
see a crystal city
yes
tall
glass building solar powered crystal city
yes
projecting
sun in dancing prisms everywhere
yes
i
see wind totems in public parks
playing
music off breezes
yes
i
see vehicles energized by recycled &
environmentally
harmless fuels
yes
rolling
along
each
with their own sound so the city’s an orchestra
did
i say
i
see elders honored
i
see children honored
i
see trees honored
i
see
i
see
i
see a party
yes
shibba
shibba shibba ya dig
i
know ya dig
thank
you
###
(written
051498-102598-120598)
(first
performed 121298 at mike ayars’ creative meltdown)
when
i first started writing darchitecture,
i didn’t know it but i wanted to have a
dialog with myself about the perception of human perfection as it relates to how
humanity is evolving. to make the
dialog publicly tangible, i personified humanity as myself struggling with the
inevitable -- growth, capacity to love, redemption of perfection.
i started with darchitecture in may 1998 and finished it in december.
“poem i” just came pouring out in the midst of a digital video
editing class i attended sundays at the coalition against police brutality on
western & 29th here in los angeles. i
think the line “as if so much love aches them to make their own eden” is
what guided me through the many questions darchitecture asks:
is dr. carolyn myss correct that the spirit can be measured as energy; is
the body a finite place where the complete universe & infinity is perfectly
mapped; what do i need to see home is infinity is darchitecture is self; when i
know if safety is a natural subset of internalized perfection; will reclaiming
perfection end inhumanity? i
don’t think i named darchitecture right away.
i think i had named it before then, but when i heard pietro pietro read
“what did i come here for” at the allen ginsberg memorial on june 12th on
the central park bandshell, i began to know what darchitecture meant.
it has come to mean “a holding at point zero to be” as if perfection
stepped into a primary stage of evolution long enough to perceive it as such
& emphatically affirm it is time to move on.
darchitecture
invitation
FROM:
LOVE IS A HOUSE LIGHTSHOW
Merilene M.
Murphy
1939¼W.
Washington Blvd., LA90018
323.419.0001;
PeazRitr@mediaone.net
TO:
YOU
WHEN:
NOW
WHERE:
HERE
WHAT:
CELEBRATE LIFE
CLICK HERE TO GET TO INDEX OF COLUMN FIFTY-EIGHT
CLICK HERE TO GET TO INDEX
OF COLUMNS
The
Blacklisted Journalist can be contacted at P.O.Box 964, Elizabeth, NJ 07208-0964
The Blacklisted Journalist's E-Mail Address:
info@blacklistedjournalist.com
THE BLACKLISTED JOURNALIST IS A SERVICE MARK OF AL ARONOWITZ