Sunday, October 28, 2007


Wave in Progress--an autobyoddyssey

Antonio Carlos Jobim produced

what I have read described

as the emptiest music on earth.

It is the music of The Stepford Wives.

It is the music of the upscale grocery store,

the Bottega Veneta theme song.

The emptiest music.

At first it was fun.

Then it was escape.

Then it was opportunity.

Then it was titillation.

Then it was retribution.

Then it was a challenge.

Then it was an obsession.

Then I thought it was real.

Then I thought it was imagination.

Then I thought it was so cool.

Then I thought it was a miracle.

Then I thought it was a threat.

Then it seemed to be a duty.

Then it seemed a Divine Obsession.

Then it seemed to rule the earth.

Then the earth grew smaller.

Then the world grew even smaller.

Then my heart grew smaller.

Then I went crazy for a while.

Then I took a road trip.

Then my heart grew cold.

Then I came home to an impossible situation.

Then I realized Aroo! Aroo!

I re-visited the zoo.

Then I remembered my friends.

Then I felt better, much better.

Then I read the Book of Nature.

And I thought about it.

Then it occurred to me

to listen to some music.

Then I went electric.

Then I joined a Lost Tribe.

Then I felt ensnared again.

I wandered aimlessly

to counter purposes.

I found my mother

and she did not know my name.

I swam in a sea of delusions.

I was surrounded

by my own smoke and mist.

Murky images of the future

danced before me. . .

Shades of past music

patches of light

laughter, raucous or subtle,

bitter tears and broken glass

Then I noticed how rays of the sun

magnify through the bits

the infinite variety of sky

the waving grass on its way

how everything seen breathes

through the invisible water-crystal

how things unseen move through

the crystal that makes it happen

that saves life for the fire

and I thought

Psychics can never accurately

predict the future.

Of course not.

The future is ever-changing.

It changes even as you notice it.

True for everyone . . .

True for Everyone.

So, then, it follows that our only possession

is this control of the present moment.

That is the only thing we can own,

even though it often seems otherwise,

and it constantly moves, like a wave.


David's Days: Notes Along the Way said...

Positively transcendental.

Will said...

" a wave"

(just beautiful.)


reading_is_dangerous said...

I enjoyed this poem very much.

you made me think about time,
the present,
the future,
who knows what, and how.

you made me think about my mother
and yours,
and our names,
and the way we forget.

you made me think about music.
I remember a composer I knew in Montreal. He once told me,
"new age music is music you can play reverse and not notice it that it's playing reverser."

I thought that was funny.

is there any truth that is true for everyone?

Charley said...

Speaking of wonderful this was an amazing poem. It led me on a journey and back again.

So nice to see you here on Blogger.