phanta rei, fuckin' a

dudes,

i was gonna post that shit, but it was crap. in the interest of full disclosure, here is the crap:

"Enoch Cristofferson Rest Stop"

Magpies, almond to almond a
long tail.

The dog chews a ball
with a look that betrays a thought,

then flips on her back on the lawn,

gets up and growls at her feet.


I wish I could yell at my own feet
in such a way, a joyful noise

full of it.
of them, of you, only you.

a muscle atop your head.
I had not been in the satifactions

a fine day behind the windbreak
of old trees made.

---

or, the end of the heraclitus poems, as I understand them.

Last February or so, I started a series of poems that were initially supposed to be a commentary/translation/attempt to understand the pre-socratic greek philosopher heraclitus. the process was interesting for a number of reasons. first among those was the opportunity to read, almost at random, a collection of writings which I soon found out was a kind of precursor to some aspects of the French philosophy which simultaneously vexed me and made me equal parts curious and deeply skeptical, philosophers who I rightly or wrongly (ignorantly) blamed for the aestheticism and rigorously skeptical excesses of poetry that was too steeped in their theories. all of this I knew nothing about, but of course preteneded that I did, and that I was taking part in some debate which the various and sundry poetry camps had designed, seemingly to advance careers or stake claims (For anti-nationalism and tipsy spirituality?) I remained unconvinced.

at any rate, Heraclitus popped into my head one day, an expression of the Heraclitan doctrine Phanta rei, or , everything flows. Come to think of it, it must have been G M Hopkins, with his reference to "Heraclitan Fire" in "the Windhover." I loved the sound of the phrase.

At any rate, I embarked on a research project, to cast a fairly wide net, reading Victorian scholars as well as contemporary scholars, who all have magnificent commentaries on this business, and who will charm you with their tweed lined pens.

The poems that resulted, which amounted to about sixteen pages of poems varying in length fom one to three pages, are a record of the period. They make no address to Heraclitus' ideas directly, and may be a misreading of the ideas (not an hard thing to do with a guy who was known as Heraclitus the obscure.


the most important impact all of this had on the poems was to increase my tendency to shift my eye quickly, from

spiders are spinning
in the sweatshirt I left
on the clothesline.

---

so steve, it should be clear that there ain't no ideas about the big H in here. i might do something more layter, but i want to leave H-man and get into township and range, and the history of property in america.

love