Forevermind

Disengage

linear thought

for abstract

bouncing nonsense

inhaling jack-like

bones

and Basho smiles

the unpoetry

of nowness

going down

in smoke

a stonedness

a stillness

a something...

             … something

Nevermind

            Forevermind

will you wait for me

          watch

               for me

                            will you...

                                      will you...

Reviews

[Eilis]

The ending plea is tender and haunting. We don’t know who it’s meant to address so it almost becomes a plea to each person reading. But, could also be a plea to mind itself, which is more deeply haunting.

This made me think of the creative process. Like preparation for entering into it and allowing yourself the freedom to let that flow through you.

This isn’t the first poem where I’ve seen you mention Basho. I studied him at university, but I haven’t really delved into his work a lot. I just read his biography (see, my google page is very useful too!) and was thinking his haibun Narrow Road to the Interior might have some relevance where your poem is concerned. Just feels like it in this moment.

I’m just making connections. It’s what I do. The poet’s physical walk or the walk of the mind can translate similarly. Both are forms of searching in their own way.

Love that unpoetry of nowness. Especially because nowness is the very stuff of poetry when the forevermind gets a hold of it.

I really like the tranquil feeling I get from the sense of letting the state sink in. Excellent.

[gram linski]

Thanks again for a great review, Eilis, your second sentence kinda summed it up and the deeply haunting plea was just an echo after all, you got the vibe spot on, as for Basho, he is always in my mind, the Narrow road was actually the thoughts behind the first few lines of Jacks damp rucksack blues, I used to study University from the bar across the road, waiting for all the English Lit chicks, goth poetry in hand, lol

[barleygirl]

This poem reminds me of how it can feel sometimes when I start going down the rabbit hole of remembering my last best friend (RIP 5 years). He helped me find the tools to change my life dramatically, but now he's not here to share it. I often look up & wonder if he's watching how this is turning out down here! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[gram linski]

you know he's watching, Margie, and he likes what he sees, hugs,

[Einstein Noodle]

i sure will gram! :) love this stuff! ... nice shout out to Basho ... like the Beatles "fool on the hill" of sorts .. i think its very effective the way your form breaks up and falls away into a fade and invitation ... almost a plea ... i sense a choice in the unpoetry of nowness .. what does the poet do?? give it up for the meditative no mind?? a very real tearing with blood for those who need our muse, pen and outpouring .. hmmmmmm wonder if in the giving up ...if it ever comes back ... to answer me self .. of course .. after all here we are ... whirling around the chaos ... ;) gifted rhythm sir .. love the form .. very stimulating and inspiring for me ..
E.

[gram linski]

we shall dance in the chaos, Mr E, you do like your abstract bouncing nonsense, : )))))

[Einstein Noodle]

yes i do :).............

[Pryde Foltz]

Smiling. That was great write. Love the anticipation garnered from word placement. Huzzah:)

[gram linski]

Huzzah, indeed Pryde, thanks for reading and enjoying,

[John the Baptist]

This one has the aura of stonedness. That's not a criticism. The first part of the poem reminds me of the "unpoetry of nowness" that can occur at a certain point in the onset of the mellowness of weed. Indeed, linear thought vanishes at that point and sometimes inspiration can occur.

[gram linski]

spot on, John, you sound like you are in the know,

[John the Baptist]

Indeed, I have indulged. Now, though, my drug of choice is two glasses of red a day.

[gram linski]

no bad thing, merlot for me

[Ted Kniffen]

If you keep writing like this, Gram, I will watch for you ... watch you carefully ... buy a watch from you on a street corner.
The layout of this reminds me of the poets of the sixties and the abstract poems that filled those smoke filled nights I vaguely remember.

Thanks for the reminder. ;>]

[gram linski]

thanks Ted, not sure if selling watches on street corners is a good career move at the moment

[Chris Shaw]

Amid the advice you offer here gram I found your ending words touching.. Like an echo lost in the ether. I particularly liked the layout. Sort of random.

Chris

[gram linski]

Always random, always touching (your thigh in 96 ), yes that was me,

[Chris Shaw]

Ha ha, you as well as Boris. Don't worry if it was you, I won't be trying to drag you through the mud to score political points. . I probably enjoyed it :)

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Well Chris his poetry ain't touching so something has to be!

[gram linski]

as did I, well the dragging through the mud (naked) part,

[Chris Shaw]

:)).........

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Do try to keep in sinc gram and leave the thigh squeezing to our Boris!

[gram linski]

why the f**k should that blonde Ayran f**k have all the fun

[gram linski]

for the sake of balance, Jeremy Corbyn hates jews too, lol

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thought balance was what you do after a few whiskys!

[gram linski]

Aye then go and vote, lol

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Ah did and look whirr that goat mae!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed abstract poetry needs us to stop thinking in straight lines and simply feel and let free association reign our minds as the inner devils emerge to daub walls in our personal graffiti. A cool piece of advice.

[gram linski]

you and Chris both mentioned advice, don' remember any such thing, how very dare you both,

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Don't try squeezing my thigh under the table though bro, it might end in tears!

[gram linski]

tears for you, dude, I know the pressure points,