Wednesday, March 22, 2006

365.25/100

--This is my hundredth post!

1.

These things take a full year—

these words that take so many

revolutions

of the earth in their
slow utterance,

These half-formed thoughts
spinning dim

within us

as the pictures
on the calendar
on the wall

change

and the angle of light
from the window

swings

and emotions become

hardened

like a chrysalis
within us

without easy breaking points
without sure signs when some

forthcoming

enlightenment

will finally arrive

and we are within
this process

pulled in

and cemented over

our selves

spinning like the triangular
centers of rotary engines

each revolution

of us

bringing alteration, understanding

coming

like the accretion of molecules

in an ionized liquid

like the travel of electrons

from cathode to anode

like the insects we
allude to when the topic of

metamorphosis

comes up

in an idle conversation near
the elevators as the workday
concludes.

2.

These things take a full year—

and often longer

though I will say a year
for the sake of strong
detail and a concrete time

period

to consider

and what is a year
after all

but a circular journey

upon a ship we can neither guide
nor disembark from

and all these changes

are rhythms

the changes

themselves

hazing the linear idea
of things we like to cling to

often

adding up to nothing

so that only

our own perception
and the grouped perceptions
of our peers

and the agreed-upon
myth of history

are changed

or rather

edited and updated for
the expediency of the
hour.

3.

It takes a year, it seems—

for we have been myopic

and the view down from
our winged heads

floating

so high above anything
real and tangible

so efficiently removed
from the events
of the day

has been dim

and we have not seen ourselves

not clearly or often as we
move about and discharge
the duties of the day

and our blindness has lengthened
these shadows

and the shadow hands have held us

taught in their grasp
and unmoving

for these many spent-out days

and we have been as inchoate and
unknowing as dead things

helpless against all the movement
without

heedless of all the motion
within

but we have now come awake

struggling free of these imagined
arms, really our own fear and
incomprehension

bursting out of the cocoon we have
built from discharged elements

and spent molecules

of our own

obsolete emotions

and now, though time makes
no more sense than it ever did

we begin to understand

for just one moment
before the unending chronology
of years spins up again

for each day ends a year

each day moves from

someday

to

once

just as we all move outward
into time and its vagaries

hoping for enlightenment

or perhaps

something almost as good.

9 comments:

drthunder said...

Ah, Firehawk. This has been a wonderfully creative year for you. Thank you for sharing those moments with your readers. Thank you for the challenges to think in differest ways that you've put before me.

swiftboat said...

Indeed, spring brings out the best in us. Though the earth comes back to its original position every year, there is something in the unwinding that is not undone. Every year has it's own vageries, making it memorable or not.

Congrats on 100! It's been quite a consistent effort taking us many different directions.

Thanks

Bill said...

A wonderful year it has been... you've written some wonderful pieces, that I've felt lucky to have shared.

Congrats on your 100th!

You've covered a lot of ground in the last year... has me wondering what the next will bring!

I really liked the pacing and structure of this piece.. not to mention the content. Time, it's such a human construct, yet, evades us all the same, too much, not enough of it, ever, it seems!

Mushster said...

without sure signs when some

forthcoming

enlightenment

will finally arrive

and we are within
this process


What a chord that struck. Happy 100th :)

Firehawk said...

Doc,

Thanks. I'm a little surprised that something that started out as a lark has lasted this long, or turned out to mean as much to me.

Swiftboat,

I suppose we're never really "in the same place" twice, since the whole solar system is moving outward into the deeper parts of the universe. I suppose a moment in time can only happen once. It's hard to make the innate circularity of the years not be symbolic for something, however.

Bill,

Not so prolific as some people I could mention, but not a bad output, really. Less than a year, 100 posts? I'll take that. I doubt that I'll be able to equal that output next year. I've settled into a fairly comfortable 1 post a week rhythm.

Mush,

Glad to see you again. You're not allowing comments on your site, so far as I can tell. Seems you've been through a pretty rough time. I hope things get better for you, and hope to keep seeing your comments here.

Thanks, everyone, for coming over and commenting. Without the support and interaction, I'd have surely given this up when the first flash of enthusiasm faded.

MB said...

Firehawk, congratulations! A year is a long time in some ways, nothing in others. I enjoyed your poem, and for this particular poem, I like the way it is strung out with line spacings. I'm glad to have found you, via Darksparks' Ken, and to have been able to share some ideas over these last few months. Thanks so much for all the comments you've left for me, and for the mini-conversations we've had over poetry (and code!). May this next year bring you just as much, if not more, rewarding creativity and productivity!

Firehawk said...

MB,

Thanks for coming by and sharing your thoughts. They really do make a difference. Man, do you miss Ken as much as I do? I wonder why he had to stop blogging. Oh, well. Such is life.

In any case, thanks for your kind words and wishes. It means a great deal.

Mushster said...

Hi Firehawk,

No, no comments over there because I'm really not sure if I'll be back properly but I'll always keep popping in on you. :)

Firehawk said...

Mush,

I hope you find the enthusiasm to come back. I'm always glad to see your name one way or the other, and I'll keep checking back at your site.

I hope you're well, and that things are resolving themselves for you now. I never knew really what all the issues you were dealing with were, but I sympathized nonetheless. Take care of yourself.