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Madison Scott-Clary
2020-02-18 00:56:55 -08:00
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book/content/poet-and-mystic.tex
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@ -1,3 +1,4 @@
\label{poet-and-mystic}
\renewfontfamily\pagenumfont{Gentium Book Basic}[Color=CCCCDDFF]
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@ -5,6 +6,8 @@
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\includepdf{assets/static/master.pdf}
\begin{paracol}{2}
\begin{rightcolumn*}
\input{content/induction.tex}
@ -17,32 +20,32 @@
\begin{ally}
Pretty.
\end{ally}
\noindent I didn't write it.
I didn't write it.
\begin{ally}
I know.
\end{ally}
\noindent I scramble through great heaps of words and sounds to try and at least pin some of them to fleeting symbols. Maybe then I'll be able to learn to see more of the accidental and individual symbols.
I scramble through great heaps of words and sounds to try and at least pin some of them to fleeting symbols. Maybe then I'll be able to learn to see more of the accidental and individual symbols.
\begin{ally}
Too many words, too many sounds.
\end{ally}
\noindent Yes.
Yes.
\begin{ally}
You wrote four pieces about the winds coming down over the foothills near Boulder (for, of all things, wind quartet), just to try and capture one ecstatic experience.
\end{ally}
\noindent I like those. I like the result.
I like those. I like the result.
\begin{ally}
You like the first two, most of all. They remind you of how hollow you felt, how you could feel the wind blow through you, vibrating your soul like the pipe of an organ, exciting you to ever higher harmonics.
\end{ally}
\noindent Yes.
Yes.
\begin{ally}
But then you kept writing.
\end{ally}
\noindent Yeah. I make a terrible poet.
Yeah. I make a terrible poet.
\begin{ally}
You make a terrible mystic. Your poetry's just okay.
@ -89,37 +92,37 @@ You make a terrible mystic. Your poetry's just okay.
\begin{ally}
Not reaching. Not trying.
\end{ally}
\noindent How can I read the ecstasy of signs? How can I feel those black birds bursting free of my hunched shoulders?
How can I read the ecstasy of signs? How can I feel those black birds bursting free of my hunched shoulders?
\begin{ally}
Step beside yourself. Take your own hand.
\end{ally}
\noindent How can I feel the cord that ties me to the center of the earth? How can I see where it leads? How can I walk the spiral?
How can I feel the cord that ties me to the center of the earth? How can I see where it leads? How can I walk the spiral?
\begin{ally}
Reach down, bury your fingers in rich earth, take root.
\end{ally}
\noindent The cant of ritual.
The cant of ritual.
\begin{ally}
The scent of incense.
\end{ally}
\noindent The rhythm of chant.
The rhythm of chant.
\begin{ally}
The ripple of water.
\end{ally}
\noindent Call and response.
Call and response.
\begin{ally}
The flicker of a candle.
\end{ally}
\noindent Voices echoing voices echoing voices echoing\ldots{}
Voices echoing voices echoing voices echoing\ldots{}
\begin{ally}
Clay between fingertips.
\end{ally}
\noindent And then?
And then?
\newpage
\end{leftcolumn}
\begin{rightcolumn*}
@ -168,12 +171,12 @@ Afterwards, I figured out how to regain control (mostly) and just in time for th
\begin{ally}
Or.. you could come up with something on your own. You know, do something productive with Nanon.
\end{ally}
\noindent There's a thought. I still need to do those spells for Androo.
There's a thought. I still need to do those spells for Androo.
\begin{ally}
Exactly. Productive
\end{ally}
\noindent I've noticed that, while my emotional colors are fading, you're becoming more prominent.
I've noticed that, while my emotional colors are fading, you're becoming more prominent.
Who are you?
@ -192,12 +195,12 @@ I'm you. Are they the same?
\begin{ally}
I'm the fifth line of five.
\end{ally}
\noindent You're an elusive bugger, that's what you are.
You're an elusive bugger, that's what you are.
\begin{ally}
Damn straight.
\end{ally}
\noindent You're depressing, too.
You're depressing, too.
\vspace{2\onelineskip}
@ -223,7 +226,7 @@ Upon reading certain things, upon hearing certain songs, upon seeing certain peo
\begin{ally}
How poetic.
\end{ally}
\noindent These are the white things. Cold, bright, burning, white.
These are the white things. Cold, bright, burning, white.
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani.
@ -232,26 +235,42 @@ But the light isn't as it used to be. It was a thing to light up a day, a thing
\begin{ally}
Love follows not the law of Ohm.
\end{ally}
\noindent Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani.
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani.
Light can be many things, but here, now, it means love - all four loves - and it's a strange feeling to have been so full of it for so long, then to suddenly be nearly without.
\begin{ally}
Full of what? Full of shit? How pathetic, how trite.
\end{ally}
\noindent Having deified love for several years, it's a shock to my faith to have it disappear, even if it only turns out to be temporary.
Having deified love for several years, it's a shock to my faith to have it disappear, even if it only turns out to be temporary.
\begin{ally}
Faith? You're faithful? How have you EVER been faithful to love?
\end{ally}
\noindent Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani!
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani!
\end{quotation}
\newpage
% XXX The following color changes are all to get around the problem of footnote colors not matching. I hate it.
\end{leftcolumn}
\end{paracol}
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\begin{paracol}{2}
\begin{leftcolumn}
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\renewfontfamily\allyFont{Merriweather Sans}[Scale=0.9,Color=000000FF,Ligatures=TeX]
\begin{ally}
What is your point?
\end{ally}
\noindent You know.
You know.
\begin{ally}
Yes, but it is important that you make it.
@ -266,39 +285,315 @@ It's about breathing in for the count of four, holding for the count of two, bre
So that you can disappear entirely.
\end{ally}
\newpage
\begin{ally}
Why this? Why now?
\end{ally} % Why after your dad?
\end{leftcolumn}
\end{paracol}
\noindent Why talk about ecstasy?
%%%%%
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\begin{ally}
Why this? Why now? Why after your dad?
\end{ally}
Why talk about ecstasy?
\begin{ally}
Yes.
\end{ally}
\noindent Dissociation.
Dissociation.
\begin{ally}
Well, that was quick. I was expecting more roundabout. We would banter. You would get flustered. I would get smug.
\end{ally}
\noindent Derealization, depersonalization, dissociation. Pure and simple.
Derealization, depersonalization, dissociation. Pure and simple.
\begin{ally}
Well huh.
\end{ally}
\noindent Would I lie to you?
Would I lie to you?
\begin{ally}
Oh, totally.
\end{ally}
\noindent Fair.
Fair.
\newpage
\end{leftcolumn}
\end{paracol}
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\begin{paracol}{2}
\begin{leftcolumn}
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\begin{verse}[1.01\textwidth]
Used to be you and I daily would walk\\
through the fields out back of the house and talk\footnote{Riverbend Ponds Natural Area, Fort Collins, CO.}\\
for hours, spilling words and emotions.\\
These walks were our daily devotions\\
to each other over the years.
The fields, dotted with ponds, were our space.\\
We tramped those trails strung like lace\\
along shores and through tall grass,\\
murmuring now like winds, chattering now like brass\\
in some changeful duet.
You'd tell me about the geese in the sky,\\
would watch me stand still and not ask why\\
the birds scared me to pieces,\footnote{https://makyo.ink/bruise-vision/}\\
even as we dodged around their feces\footnote{https://makyo.ink/the-dogs-assure-me/}\\
littering the trails.
You'd put up with my fickle interests,\\
running with me, or stopping to see what arrests\\
my attention.\footnote{Shpongle --- A new way to say hooray!} You'd follow all of my changes\\
and change along with me through all the ranges\\
of our shared experience.
\end{verse}
\newpage
\end{leftcolumn}
\end{paracol}
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\renewfontfamily\allyFont{Merriweather Sans}[Scale=0.9,Color=000000FF,Ligatures=TeX]
\begin{verse}[1.01\textwidth]
You'd tell me of your meditation,\\
I'd talk of my fears of stagnation.\\
You'd always smile so kindly to me,\\
and I'd always feel so free\\
in our companionship.
And over time, those walks got slower,\\
shorter, less frequent, or over\\
far too soon, though no less meaningful\\
as we spent our time together in cheerful\\
conversation or kind quiet.
We each seemed to be going our separate ways,\\
with me branching out, exploring different lays\\
of different lands, and you turning inwards,\\
exploring lines of thought you never put in words,\\
at least not that you told me.
And then one day, we once more went out walking\\
and though it took a while, you got to talking.\\
You told me of how you sat, quiet and alone,\\
waiting for the time you might turn to stone\footnote{Quasimodo's line "Why was I not made of stone like thee?"; or, perhaps, part of a Chinese saying, "I will close my eyes and my heart and become a stone".}\\
and be completely still at last.
\end{verse}
\newpage
\end{leftcolumn}
\end{paracol}
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\renewfontfamily\allyFont{Merriweather Sans}[Scale=0.9,Color=000000FF,Ligatures=TeX]
\begin{verse}[1.01\textwidth]
You told me how as you sat, the room lengthened,\\
curved around, turned on you --- strengthened,\\
it seemed, by your very presence ---\\
and amid all of that gathered pleasance,\\
bit you in half.\footnote{Towards the tail end of high school, I experimented with \emph{Salvia divnorum}, and an enduring memory is the room lengthing, twisting around, and biting me in half.}
You told me how, as part of you died\\
in that moment, the rest of you spied,\\
it seemed, on this very ending.\\
You told me you thought that this rending\\
was the end of something big.
I listened in silence. What could I say?\\
The things you were telling me, walking that day\\
were strangely shaped and didn't make sense.\\
Or if they did, they did so around corners as pretense,\\
perhaps, subtext, allusion, metaphor.
You were right, though, I could hear it in your voice.\\
There was finality, there, which spoke of a choice\\
already made. Endings were writ on your face,\footnote{John Keats' epitaph, \emph{Here lies one whose name was writ in water}. Those who know that they are dying can show the knowledge in their face.}\\
your hands, and your steps --- your very pace\\
spoke of completion.
\end{verse}
\newpage
\end{leftcolumn}
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\begin{verse}[1.01\textwidth]
I replied to that sense rather than your words.\\
``While you look up to the geese and see only birds,\\
I see omens and my doom spelled in vees.\\
You speak of rooms and cleaving, but please,\\
tell me, are you leaving?''
We'd long since stopped, there by the pond,\\
and your smile was, yes, sad, but still fond\\
as you settled down wordlessly to your knees,\\
took a slow breath, looked out to the trees,\\
and closed your eyes.
Beginnings are such delicate times\footnote{Frank Herbert's \emph{Dune}.}\\
and I very nearly missed it, no chimes\\
to announce the hour of your leaving.\\
As it was, there was no time for believing\\
or not in the next moments.
Your fingers crawled beneath the soil\\
and sprouted roots, flesh starting to roil.\\
Coarse bark spiraled up your wrists and arms,\\
Spelling subtle incantations and charms\\
to the chaos of growth.
You bowed your head and from your crown\\
sprouted a tender shoot covered in fine down,\\
soon followed by crenelated leaves and fine stems.\\
The pace was fast, implacable, and leaves like gems\\
soon arched skyward.
\end{verse}
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\begin{verse}[1.01\textwidth]
You sprouted and grew, taking root\\
in one smooth motion, fixed and mute.\\
Your clothing fell away, rotting in fast-time.\footnote{Keats: \emph{Thou foster-child of silence and slow Time}}\\
Naked now, you sat still, committing one last crime\\
of indecency.
Your face, your face! In your face was such peace\\
as I'd never seen, even as you gave up this lease\\
on life, echoed also in my heart of hearts.\\
I did not cry out, nor even speak, witnessing such arts\\
as your final display showed.
Soon, you were consumed, transformed as a whole.\\
Your head a crown of leaves, your heart a bole\\
bored in rough bark and sturdy wood,\\
your fingers, knees, and toes stood\\
as thirsty roots.
I stood a while by the tree that was you,\footnote{A dream: \emph{I am walking along a trail in the Riverbend Ponds and start to feel dizzy, so I fall to my knees and clutch at the soil. To my surprise --- and yet not, as though it were inevitable --- my fingers and knees take root and grow into the soil. A sense of peace washes over me and I bow my head. From the back of my neck sprouts a branch and in fast-time, my body falls away and where I sat is now a tree.}}\\
then sat at your roots and thought of all I knew\\
about time, transformation, death and change.\\
I thought about you, your life, your emotional range,\\
your gentle apotheosis.
\end{verse}
\newpage
\end{leftcolumn}
\end{paracol}
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\begin{verse}[1.01\textwidth]
Then I walked home, quiet and numb.\\
No, not numb, per se, but perhaps dumb.\\
Dumb of words, dumb of emotions. Quiet.\\
I expected turmoil, some internal riot,\\
I got nullity.
Who, after all, if I cried out,\footnote{Rilke's Duino Elegies: \emph{Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the ranks of angels?}}\\
would hear my wordless shout\\
among the still trees and rustling leaves?\\
Who hears? Who cares? Who perceives\\
this non-grief?
You, my friend, are still there.\\
I walk the fields every day, passing where\\
you changed into something new.\\
I marvel at you, at how you grew\\
into something wholly different.
Used to be you and I daily would walk\\
through the fields out back of the house and talk.\\
Now, it's just me, alone, quiet, thinking\\
of you by the shore, forever drinking\\
of sweet water.
\end{verse}
\newpage
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\end{paracol}
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\renewfontfamily\allyFont{Merriweather Sans}[Scale=0.9,Color=000000FF,Ligatures=TeX]
\begin{ally}
You're not very focused.
\end{ally}
\vfill
\noindent I know.
I know.
\vfill
@ -307,6 +602,7 @@ You're not very focused.
\vfill
\noindent that I'm
\vfill
\newpage
\end{leftcolumn}
\end{paracol}
@ -541,12 +837,12 @@ Ask.
\begin{ally}
Swing the flashlight rapidly across the room. Piece together what you can from the sweep of the beam across the walls, the furniture.
\end{ally}
\noindent How does one hunt down what leaves no tracks?
How does one hunt down what leaves no tracks?
\begin{ally}
Unwind the maze by keeping your right hand on the wall. Pray that the walls do not move.
\end{ally}
\noindent How does one call down the gods to commune?
How does one call down the gods to commune?
\begin{ally}
Speak thrice, and enter.
@ -661,14 +957,14 @@ I had forgotten about the birds until recently, but every time I feel that ecsta
\begin{ally}
I know.
\end{ally}
\noindent I want to shout and to whisper. I want to talk about how the light flows in through the head and out through the heart. I want to put words to the feeling of falling to the ground and taking root.
I want to shout and to whisper. I want to talk about how the light flows in through the head and out through the heart. I want to put words to the feeling of falling to the ground and taking root.
I want to say how it feels when I step outside myself.
\begin{ally}
You tried.
\end{ally}
\noindent I guess that's all I can do.
I guess that's all I can do.
\begin{ally}
It's not, but it's important that you have tried.