Just when I thought you impossible, you changed me and I saw the light.
So I say in my own Puckish way, arrival is a dialogue, multiplicity, cross of numbers and changes, and I confuse my true solitude with lost empty separation.
Yes? I ask, and Yes! you answer in time, yes in rhythm, and in rhyme.
November 4, 2009 2:58 AM
Oh my, I wonder, perhaps an acid flashback? I admit I can still exactly remember the taste of burning cigarette tobacco and paper when I am high on LSD. (I quit smoking in 1981 and used my last LSD in 1970.) There are other things too that I remember. The key pieces, though, I cannot exactly remember. They do not fit in my ordinary mind. I remember that I had the experiences. I remember some of the stories but not even all of them. However, I am not the only guy who can have deja vu all over again, stark raving sober. I know I am not the only guy. Back in the day, I aimed for that. I aimed to replace my ordinary mind with a fey mind, a mind with the energy of LSD running through it, with all the wild phenomena that can and does happen to some of us. They happened to me. I very much wanted to keep all that close. I was deeply disappointed when LSD turned on me and I tried to turn it back for a while before deciding I could not use it again.
Some years ago my poetry took on a mythic flavor and I became a character in my own poems, a mage, "the man of the Northern Wall". This apellation is not completely fictional. My middle name is Noordwal, a Dutch term for north wall, though in current Dutch it mainly means north bank as in riverbank. I was told that an ancestor, a Portugese Jew escaping the Inquisition, settled in a small Dutch town and took this name from where he settled, near the north wall of the town. I have thought for a long time that -wal meant wall, think my mother told me that. A linguist might say that my usage is no longer common, is an older usage, but then the Inquisition happened in Portugal a few centuries ago, right around the time the Moors lost control of the Iberian Peninsula and the Jews lost the modest protection given them by Islam. Now I write as this mage, my poetry persona.
Mechanical designer for industry, now retired, once a Bay Area Hippie, went undercover in 1972, I've been writing poetry for years.
Contact: 3topper45@gmail.com
Beautiful songs. I have never heard of that artist. Looks like someone in New York is listening too.
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