POEMS GROUP 19: PRANAH Category 4: Renascence

1. Nursery One
2. Nursery Two
3. What Are You
4. Reprise
5. Epiphany
6. On a Station of the S-Bahn
7. Sucker
8. Surrender
9. Whirly Wind of Fire
10. The Net
11. What Is It
12. For Ever
13. Syllogy XXV: Counterpoint

PRANAH - RENASCENCE I:

NURSERY ONE

Doctor Foster went to Gloucester
In a shower of rain.
He stepped in a puddle
Right up to his middle,
And never went there again.

Doctor Foster went to Ulster
In a shower of rain
He fell to a puddle
Down in his middle
And never went ever again

May 10th, 2003

PRANAH - RENASCENCE II:

NURSERY TWO

The girl in the lane, that couldn't speak plain,
Cried, "Gobble, gobble, gobble":
The man on the hill that couldn't stand still,
Went hobble hobble, hobble.

The girl in the street, that wouldn't be meat,
Cried, "Nangnang, Nangnang, Nangnang":
The man near the mart, that wouldn't stand smart,
Went Bangbang, Bangbang, Bangbang.

May 10th, 2003

PRANAH - RENASCENCE III:

WHAT ARE YOU

what are you
afraid of

what is it
you're hiding from?

September 10th, 2003

PRANAH - RENASCENCE IV:

REPRISE

just when you've started to accept
nothing's normal again
just when you've lost all restraint
it'll hit you again
just when you've stopped
to live on your own -
a tiny moment
that's all it quite needs
the balance stays gone
am shaking all over
and trembling in aftershock
frozen, immobilized,
words just won't come,
words cannot tell,
all is in dismay
all is in strain
disharmony
catatonic, most certainly,
for brief just a moment
and mere just eternity
the sight of her
has struck me down

October 20th, 2003

PRANAH - RENASCENCE V:

EPIPHANY

see you now
the words all spoken
words all written
words so sparingly
daringly
massive all
amassingly
sleep-walking
day-walking
turning day right into night
turning my self
this strangest construction
into a thing
that knows not its purpose
while still, at the time
it all could be clearer
it all could be nearer
all could be truer
objects in mirror
are truer, sometimes,
than may they appear
for ain't there an image?
so, ain't there a soul?
see I not life
thought sleepy and thrashed
but see I not life?
so if there is life,
what choice would there be?

and if there is life
ain't there epiphany?
if there is life
ain't there a choice?
if there is life
ain't there still time?
if there is time
ain't death an option I could just post-pone?
and if I post-pone
post-pone I the thing
the act just
the dying
or do I post-pone
the thinking itself?
the death quite inside, the death of the spirit?
so if there is life
and if there is time
and if there is death
to come in the end
and death as an equaler, death as to be
so what then could harm me
and what could negate me
and what could refrain me
(except just myself)
from just going on?
and if I go on
shall do it I sloppily?
do it half-heartedly?
do it just luke-warmly
do it - in fear?

for what should I fear?
there's things that can kill you
oh gosh, I'm afraid
for die I will anyway, then, at the end
be now it or then
sooner or later
so what could you do to me
what not came to pass?
should fear I rejection?
what happened before?
well, fear it I might
and fear it I do
but still, I stayed true
and truth was my guide
a truth not in thoughts just but feeling as well
for why here play games?
that can't be an option
can choose it I didn't
so once I stayed true,
what happened back then
just couldn't be helped
and couldn't be fought
for there's just one option
and truth is its name
and once that's made clear
what still would remain?
I didn't act wrongly
there can't be regrets
I cannot regret
if not it's my choice
you just cannot help
who just doesn't want it
I didn't do wrong
and I didn't fail
my soul,
neither you

now, I want nothing any longer
a want without wanting
a have without having
possession
without your self quite being possessed
without your soul being governed by things
without other souls
being made into things
understood as things
scheduled, talked of, and treated as things
but what's in a soul
that's not in a thing?
what's in a soul
a strangest obscurity
strangest conception
strangest invention
what's in a soul
that creeps into life
that creeps into being
or nothingness quite
tell me the soul
tell me the spirit
tell me the essence
but what now
you can't?
you flee to religion?
you flee to philosophy?
flee into things
quite meta the physis
why is that so
how would we name
what cannot be seen
how would we name
what cannot be known
how would we name
what cannot be named?

and why should we do so?
why should we
pretend to know
pretend to need authority?
why should I
subject my self
to forces obscure
controlled by some watchers
of things declared holy, beyond
why should I
surrender my soul
accept a burden
that's not quite my own?
to look for epiphany?
gain revelation?
what could there be seen
that isn't quiet here
what could there be seen
that isn't within us
what could there be seen
that is beyond life?

all's quite so simple
and all unobscured now:
life is just life,
the only epiphany, only daimonion,
for the sake of life
and the sake of the living
you only can know it
through life, not through death
you only can see it
when see you quite openly,
infect not your mind
with what prevents thinking
infect not your heart
with what prevents feeling
infect not your self
with what's not in truth

December 26th, 2003

PRANAH - RENASCENCE VI:

ON A STATION OF THE S-BAHN

I just saw a woman
petting a dog
the cutest little terrier from the York-Shire breed
she curled his head
she curled his ears
he looked so happy
so did she
then she said good-bye
and went away
the dog wasn't hers
belonged to the grocer nearby
she was just a stranger
wanting to share
her love

February 5th, 2004

PRANAH - RENASCENCE VII:

SUCKER

at the door of the toilet booth:
will suck dick, 01/04
(giving a date, presumably so)
4th floor, through hole, -
so imagine my imagination -
what if, by accident, I sat in the dedicated booth,
by mistake and necessity
and quite uninformed,
and suddenly,
through a hole,
some dick looked at me?
bite it, sucker!

February 6th, 2004

PRANAH - RENASCENCE VIII:

SVRRENDER

surrender I want
surrender
to the pain
to the longing
and all that's implied
there's things but that let me go on
people that need me
(oh, by the way, do they know at all
how much I need them?)
there's something that hurts
deep down
inside
and some thing that needs to come out
it's her I need
it hits me so hard
each time but anew
how sudden but a recognition
and how I am surprised each time
I thought I've made my laments, over and out,
but no, each day, each night the more,
I've lost the girl
and peace
is no more
I've lost my love
and lost a friend
at the same time
so, analyze that

February 9th/11th, 2004

PRANAH - RENASCENCE IX:

WHIRLY WIND OF FIRE

like a whirly wind of fire
ring of fire
ring of flames
turning 'round and 'round and all
turning all
into a maze of shifting luck and pain
in its blaze
of glory besieged
and glory derailed
leaving just
my perfect happiness in turbulence majestic
depriving just
my dreams from all that made them count

I'm not modest
never 've been
not in my heart of hearts inside
it's just a pose
it's just a posture
one that makes look human me
you can't see inside me here?
you can't see what hides beneath?
see the surface just, believe its lies?
oh, I'm a liar brute and cruelest:
'cause I'm more human than you think

if I were to here expose my self, my soul
I would quite shock you, drive you into deepest wondering
'n 'all mine histories I urge you,
'n 'all my dreams it is I search you,
'n 'all my fantasies then merge you,
'n 'all my mysteries then verge you
there's no one else to find for you
there's no one else to make you see your self, your soul,
there's no one else
there's no one else

and what I say, I say in hiding
and what I say, I say in riddles just
I can't speak out
I would condemn me
to yet another fate of desolation
see you not? and hearst not, knowst not?
I just can't tell
what you can't imagine
but if you believe
you'll surely then see

like a whirly wind of fire
someone made me go away
go into hiding
into flight
but I'm still here
and I'm still waiting
I'm not quite finished
I've barely begun
so can you see
and can you feel?

February 15th 2004

PRANAH - RENASCENCE X:

THE NET

the net
isn't that the strangest thing?
you think it's impersonal
think it's decentered
think it's just
a game of numbers
but wait
and see
I'm sitting here
in a pool of computers
one of them
holding a web site
I've made
and uploaded
quite into it
into her, I must say
her name's Clarice
and right beside her
her colleagues, all women,
a Lana, a Mary,
a Janet, another,
twelve darling girls
all in a row
Clarice here is working
she's not to be
shut off
otherwise
the web sites she's holding
would leave
the line
a red-hatted Linux
guarding its interface
my bits and pieces
all rotating
al circling
on a hard disk quite local
and quite so not
cyber
they have a name
a face
a place
the number
's an address

August 18th 2004

PRANAH - RENASCENCE XI:

WHAT IS IT

what is it
that hurts you
that always averts you
from the path once sought dearly
horizons so easily hoped for
now lost

in the daze of all sorrows
plein de soucis
pas sans soucis!
en passant
by passion so haunted?
or by the mere lack of it...

what is it
that hurt you
so seem
that when I look into your eyes
you turn away
afraid
that I see what's in there
(or not, rather?)

what is it
that hurt you
the people you love
the people (much more so)
that love you still?

August 18th 2004

PRANAH - RENASCENCE XII:

FOR EVER

forever
is a strange word
one that lies
more in the imagination
than in reality
we cannot live
for ever
we can only hope
for ever
to live
for ever
to love
"for ever"
does "for ever" mean
"at all"?
would love we
if weren't it for ever?
would live we
if weren't it for ever?
would ever we
if not in hope
of a forever?

we only can hope
that in the forever
(and only then)
will lie the point of an end
that may we not see it
that may we just fear it
but never be near it
but always
come closer

August 18th 2004

SYLLOGY XXV:

PRANAH - RENASCENCE XIII:

distant all in what has been
in what has seen
the night in the day
the days filled with nightmares
of looking for answers
that will not be given
ever no more

you think you see the same person in the mirror
but you're wrong
and there's nothing to see in an image so flattened

if made you a point once
why not unmake it
why but, indeed,
leave it alive
a point once made
will only grow stale
if stays uncontested it
all on its own

present now from past is drawn
presented all with thoughts rethought so
thoughts so far away and distant

the past is a haunter
a mightiest spectre
and archive of follies
a chronology
of knowing much less
and seeing so differently
and seeing so quite in the same way
some things
others not

the present is a counterpoint to what has been
the past a pastiche of what you left behind,
to become something else

a certain recency of information
a dernier cri
it's all about
in obscuration of all knowledge
it's just trying that's held high
and what from shadows slowly rises
halfly, dimly all just seen
in its wake all truth negating
seeking struggle just -
and pain?

pain is no truth, it's just a reality,
it's not an essence to ever accept it
it just is an agon Olympic of scope

a certain mode of desperation
all in hindsight well repressed
hidden well
all deeper wells
wails a thunderstorm of hopes disrupted
hails a life
that's going differently, and shaken
going still
and going quietly
to end
in chances lost, and taken not

and what is lost in stinging, blunt agony
is lost because something is taken from us
something we were able to feel, and still do

a country song that's playing in the background
oh, so desperately pain-filled!
the music of pain
rightly said
rightly observed
and wrongly approved of
a country, all filled
with tunes of pain
can hardly be 'xpected to rise to its task
and filled it all though
with questions of living -
all I see and I hear is loss

and what remains
is a "quid si sic", a search for a life
that adheres not to truth but to hope?

or is it love?
and "stand by me"
is sung right now
a loss expected while love's still hoped for
a prayer like
a counterpoint
of hopes still living
life not felt over
life not felt stale
stayed I would have, wavered I'd not
never, no, never
is that so hard to accept?
what choice would we have except love?

August 29th, 2004