on being disconnected.

this morning

while vacuuming the writing room, I found a Christmas ornament behind the couch cushion. Still attached to the silver life line of genetics and imposed culture that the metal of it's short life hung from. I can hardly wait to use it again, or it me spinning, capacitated,

superfluous, transient; external. Resting where the cat of past generations had haphazardly  set it free. Good time is heritable like that. Even the axioms of inherit spirits get deeply wrought into substance.  

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

i suppose any human connection we make with material things is false. However, some sentiments and the heritage of family ceremony links us through time .. another thought provoking read h d! peace and joy
E.

[Corset]

Cats love the mysterious low lying limb especially when they have shinies, some ornaments, no matter how old they get are always treasured. What builds sentimentality in us? what fills us as it does few other animals in our kingdom do all animals thrill at beloved items the way we do and we just can not comprehend what they are feeling under the stare. Cats and dogs have pituitary glands and they clearly feel emotions, love, fear, anger do they experience disappointment too? Since they have a pituitary do they go to heaven or have spiritual thoughts at Christmas too?

[h d e rushin]

domestication fools us into those metalinguistic pedants who struggle for meaning and structure and it's relationship to all things we encounter. That's why as a child , I gave genders and dispositions to my forks and spoons. Forks were bad girls. Spoons were good boys. knives were always gentlemen and big spoons were always bad men. We clearly do the same with our pets, since they too occupy this utilitarian space in our lives. Pituitary means that they secrete hormones. But why would a dog need hormones? Because we humans demand the secretion of cortisol; we love and hate, have sex , eat chicken McNuggets and cry. Thank you for the inspiration my friend...dana

[redzone]

everything changes, though some needed changes take too long to come about.... but then dreams always run ahead of reality.... and traditions based on the genetics of culture become chains around the neck until a whole new society is built... ever notice though how the old order never gives up it's power, even from the grave it takes its revenge and perhaps in different form (only) it rears it's head..... poisonous weeds must be taken out by the roots, the same is true for poisonous traditions and social relationships.... there is a reggae song (Ziggy Marley, "Future People") with the lines "don't know the past, won't know the future" or better yet, "learn from the past to make a better future"...

perhaps we poets can "connect" and change that genetics and culture.... wha do ya think Dana???

[h d e rushin]

But we poets have such a limited footprint on todays culture red. And even here, politics and petty dislikes makes turns us to stone even in the face of great poetry. The Taliban has taken over Afghanistan! Do we care if Monday Night Football is on in a few minutes? The world is changing as we speak my friend. It's getting hotter, fatter, more cynical, less industrious , less Christian, darker, we eat more ice cream but fewer pop cycles, there are more guns around and less potting soil.. We will hold out for the "new world". thank you for your insight my friend....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Maybe you should hang the cat from the tree, they make great ornaments...
and can use the branch of the evergreen as a scratching post.
I wonder what else the past generations have set free...
I think we tried in the sixties....but then we just became ornaments on the capitalist's tree...
and we had Frosty the Orange haired snowman, sitting on the couch cushion just crushing that poor ornament....and maybe the cat as well.
j.

[h d e rushin]

all great ideas. The cat is the champion of anxiety. When we first brought (it) home we had to decide whether it was a boy or a girl. Eventually, like things we find by happenstance, a larger truth always reveals itself: A Christmas ornament, a picture of someone we use to love, a sweater with the scent of a past love affair, even a landscape. But we are disconnected by all of these things by time, or forgetfulness (whether willful or not) or there lack of importance. Time gallops along from where we once were. thanks brother. dana