only with fingertips

Page Seventy-eight

wednesday 2 June 2010               turning in moral disorder

As I’ve said before, poetry, for 55 years as much a part of my life as my hair, is now extremely difficult for me to go near, either to write it or to read it. But there’s a poem that’s been repeating itself in my mind for a while now, begging for acknowledgement, the way things stored in the mind will do. I memorized it in about 1970, from the back of a Monkees album (maybe it was Headquarters), and haven’t seen it in print since. I regret that I’ve forgotten who the poet is. It’s possible it’s Leonard Cohen, but I don’t want to swear to that. This poem that came out of all that was the sixties is not, in my opinion, obsolete or irrelevant today. What it was saying to people then still needs to be said. In fact, it’s my personal observation that people are even less conscious and aware now than they were then.

                               Blue is blue                                                      
                               and must be that,
          but yellow is none the worse for it.
          Hearing only with ears,
          seeing only with eyes,
             feeling only with fingertips.
                                           And this and that slips away,
             never having been known by those to whom
     it would not have mattered anyway.

                                                                        ~~  carlisle wheeling

So, wandering. Memory wanders through all the years up to 2008. Since then, I haven’t been living my own life as myself. And so often surprized by the presumed-forgotten things that wander round the brain cells, from passive memory to active, from yesterday to today.

Last night I had news from my new research assistant, Bx3. She works only when she feels like it and receives no pay — ideal for both of us, as I myself hate doing research. She found out the name of the poet, which I’ve supplied, and which is reportedly an alias for Michael Nesmith. She also learned that the album where this poem was featured was The Birds, The Bees, and the Monkees.

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 read…    Scealta liatha…   Shadowpoems

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