Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Being Who We Are
Recently, I wrote two spontaneous poems, neither pertaining to mystical or spiritual experience, except in the broadest sense. I debated whether or not to post them on this site, which focuses on the spiritual path as such. However, they represent a part of the self--the more rational, mental being--which also deserves expression as meaningful aspects of the total psyche. When we undergo profound transformation, some remnants of the old identity remain, though these may be quiescent for a time. Ultimately, they re-emerge, and should not, I think, be repressed, but allowed to enter consciousness as significant aspects of the whole.
For most of my adult life, I was a professor of English (and women's studies). Obviously, I still have some things to say about some of the celebrities of the literary world, including those who shock in order to reveal. The first poem "came through" as I was sitting in the midst of a redwood grove, with honey light streaming through the branches. I think the poem may have arisen from the contrast between the sense of total peace and beauty in this quiet natural setting and the insistent cynicism of the artist in question.
The second poem "appeared" as I unpacked the volumes I had carried with me (but not opened) on my journey to the redwoods.
In This Light Which Will Not Come Again:
Joyce, the Sneerer
Brighter than
everyone else
he had a right
to be rude.
He sneered at
authority,
even as a child
confronting the schoolmaster-
priest over
his broken
glasses.
As he grew,
he learned to
scoff at all the others
in his world--
classmates,
colleagues,
even those who befriended him,
became his sponsors,
gave him money
and spread his fame.
He sneered his
way up
the ladder of acclaim,
shocking by
his audacity,
his fearless
revelation
of the hidden
and taboo.
Through words
through his manipulations
of all history
and its omnipresent
themes,
his vision expanded,
even as his eyesight
decreased.
At last, a
blind Teiresius,
he died,
like a great, perplexing
monument
which toppled
with a thud
that shook
the entire universe
of saying.
October 9, 2004
Sharon Olds, the Sex Queen
She told us more
than we wanted to know
about our secret lives.
Her words spewed forth
in exploding bundles of light,
burst our psyches open
in spiraling flame.
Nothing was off limits,
no topic taboo.
We followed her wide-eyed
and speechless
into the most forbidden ground,
everything grist
for her churning mill.
After it was over,
we sat there stunned and silent,
pondering what we had seen.
Is this the way it can be?
we wondered.
Are we missing out
on something big,
something rare and common,
blinded by her light?
October 12, 2004
Copyright, Dorothy Walters
For most of my adult life, I was a professor of English (and women's studies). Obviously, I still have some things to say about some of the celebrities of the literary world, including those who shock in order to reveal. The first poem "came through" as I was sitting in the midst of a redwood grove, with honey light streaming through the branches. I think the poem may have arisen from the contrast between the sense of total peace and beauty in this quiet natural setting and the insistent cynicism of the artist in question.
The second poem "appeared" as I unpacked the volumes I had carried with me (but not opened) on my journey to the redwoods.
In This Light Which Will Not Come Again:
Joyce, the Sneerer
Brighter than
everyone else
he had a right
to be rude.
He sneered at
authority,
even as a child
confronting the schoolmaster-
priest over
his broken
glasses.
As he grew,
he learned to
scoff at all the others
in his world--
classmates,
colleagues,
even those who befriended him,
became his sponsors,
gave him money
and spread his fame.
He sneered his
way up
the ladder of acclaim,
shocking by
his audacity,
his fearless
revelation
of the hidden
and taboo.
Through words
through his manipulations
of all history
and its omnipresent
themes,
his vision expanded,
even as his eyesight
decreased.
At last, a
blind Teiresius,
he died,
like a great, perplexing
monument
which toppled
with a thud
that shook
the entire universe
of saying.
October 9, 2004
Sharon Olds, the Sex Queen
She told us more
than we wanted to know
about our secret lives.
Her words spewed forth
in exploding bundles of light,
burst our psyches open
in spiraling flame.
Nothing was off limits,
no topic taboo.
We followed her wide-eyed
and speechless
into the most forbidden ground,
everything grist
for her churning mill.
After it was over,
we sat there stunned and silent,
pondering what we had seen.
Is this the way it can be?
we wondered.
Are we missing out
on something big,
something rare and common,
blinded by her light?
October 12, 2004
Copyright, Dorothy Walters
