Got one other poetry-oriented thing done today ... I have been looking all over for these little tiny notebooks I used to get ... they were about the size of a business card, staple-bound through the spine, with "leatherette" covers. I loved those since they could go in ANY pocket and not be a bother ... all the notebooks I've been able to find at at least twice the size, and most of them have spiral bindings on them (oh, yeah, that's real comfy to carry around). Well, I had the big DOH! realization that I have a paper cutter, I have a saddle stitcher, I can fold paper, so all I needed was supplies. About $3.50 and an hour later I had sixteen nice little 48-page 4.25" x 2.75" grid-lined notebooks! Now I will always be ready to catch those ephemeral bits of brilliant phraseology that might otherwise slip back into the aether.
Anyhoo ... here's today's poem:
ONCE MORE THE MAGE
sought out
the missing acts
the absent tools
the unlearned stance
sought within
to realign
to form again
what's left behind
our systems falter
go for naught
amid the struggle
and our search
too many markers
stand amid
the swirling chaos
and draw at once
this dissolves
the focused self;
these vectors drag
at anchor points
shifting, distorting,
making unwhole,
topographies melt
and subdivide
in this corruption
invokes the storm
speaking words
unheard through wind
yet uttered still
upon the planes
where power bides
awaiting call
then the wielding
the gestures made
as all returns
and snaps the lines
out of the past
sweeping clear
the madness
and the empty age
- Brendan Tripp
10/05/2000
Copyright © 2000 by Brendan Tripp
