Living History Exhibit


Hunter brave, immortal twin

Poisoned arrow, bait of sin

Surrogate of sweet revenge

On the outside looking in



Without glory, without kin

In working order despite the din

Like scalp in hand, spruce and trim

I sparkle like a well-cut gem



A souvenir from holy ground

A ghastly grim sacred clown

Playing long beyond my time

Exacting justice beyond the crime



Ghost apache, pale and thin

Mocked and hated now and then

Where shadows linger without wings

I slip and slither my way in



Like the rogue who mutters a mournful song

Or the unseen agent of a righted wrong

I rant and rave and carry on

Pining for a world long gone


Written by © Raven Drake
September 20, 2009

Very nice...

I think you would enjoy Harold Bloom's book the Anxiety of Influence (1973) there within you will find the struggle for identity by each generation of poets, under the threat of greatness of it's predecessors, as an enactment of the Oedipus complex, something I often see in your poems Raven.



Tits and Explosions

I must say however that I "read" very few poets or poems other than the ones that lie dormant within the words themselves.

I've discovered that each "word" is an en/trance or portal into our own subconscious. The keys to the doors or portals are the instigating forces or vibrations that awaken the daemon within and without.

These keys activate the images, ideas and meanings that reside in those realms.

I'm very interested in the stuff of the subconscious, the realm of dreams, and the malleability of language. All words, meanings and sounds are capable of being extended or shaped by the force of the subconscious.

They are also capable of being altered or controlled by outside forces or influences within the "spirit realm" or the realm of the daemon, the indwelling and outdwelling power that invokes the enthusiasm of the god-possessed.

Language, having a capacity for adaptive change is very elastic, as are its meanings. There are always implications of a hidden or latent significance in every word. A word as a "speech sound" that symbolizes and communicates a meaning is more di/visible than one would think.

Each word really can be reduced into smaller units capable of independent use. In/visible forces are at work between the letters. Dormant within each word-symbol is a continuum of meanings and sounds and images, a quiescent potential waiting to be activated.

So in that sense I would say that my "poetic vision" is derivative of those existing realms. I feel only a sense of wonder and awe, not anxiety. I merely act as a vessel or portal for those forces. There is no dread or anxiety involved in being a portal. We are far more porous than we know.

We had never had the meaning and trouble to find a point can I say for the words and forth from Nevada. The bottom and more hole we find in the words now for a strange sky in the day from here.

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"I am so grateful that I am a magnet for miracles."
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I enjoyed that alot....

You are so right on....!

I too never had the meaning or trouble to find a point for the words....

The holes I find in the words make for a strange sky indeed....!

Someday we will get to the bottom of it.....!

Exactly....

LOL.....!!!

CRAP

real nice

keep it up

Geo.

http://www.georgewolstenholme.com

I love NKs poetry.

Anyone who is concerned with creativity gets my vote.



Tits and Explosions

I will check out your website....

Talk with you soon

Nevada