An inspection of something before it comes to light.

I'm a slave to the poetry despot. The muse knows my number and I am it's poor farmer. 

Anyone who creates knows, once you commit to that creative process, it either becomes a way of life or you move on. Poetry is that process for me, continuous and ever evolving. Absorbing, never ending and sometimes obsessive. I would be much more successful at almost everything if it were not for poetry, and I would be unsuccessful at just about everything if not for poetry too. It makes me who I am and it precludes me from getting those necessary things I'm supposed to do done, in a timely fashion, because more times than not the only voice I hear is the muse. I have lots of things around the house that may never get finished, may get finished someday, or will be left for the ages and all for one reason: I'd rather be in the poetic state than anywhere else. This includes Hawaii or Alaska too! 

Just because you've finished something like a collection doesn't mean you're done with it right? Didn't Walt revised "Leaves" how many times? 

So I've sent this collection off to my publisher and I'm still writing things that could/would/should fit into this thing! The year is over, the perimeters were fulfilled but I'm still working on the journey! The original concept was 21 poems. (I kinda cheated and added an epilogue.) Now I've written another 4-5 that I feel belong. What am I supposed to do now? Add 4-5 epilogues? So, I guess I'm working on the next cycle right?

At this rate when I do my reading as a Co-feature at Café Lena on August 1st with Ken Hada and launch this book, I'll have plenty of pieces to read I can bill as previews of a coming attraction! 

That's what this poem here is. A preview: |ˈprēˌvyoō| noun: An inspection of something before it comes to light.


~

My Mothers Hummingbird:

A messenger came
from
otherworld

healerspirit,
luckgiver,
gifter

you firebringer

came to me

when I was in need

but I
unawares
caught you

in grille
of car
on rainy morn



a chance to seek
wisdom
hear council

gone these years

missed in twi-night
opportunity margined

I stumble blindly

bury you again
in backyard
of dreams

under
next
years

flower.





obeedúid~
10/June/12

The following is a Link 

to the Audio Recording 

on SoundCloud 

of me reading this poem:

Pine Hollow 15-June-12 My Mother's Hummingbird

[Note: My Mom planted somewhere around 120 varieties of Lilium. As a result we cultivated Hummingbirds also. If you were in the flight path you often had an angry hummingbird IN YOUR FACE wondering why you were not a flower! Since my Mom died when I see a Hummingbird I think of it as her Animism. She taught me to return to the earth things that are of the earth so that they may become something new and beautiful.]


obeedúid~
02/July/12

Nè ŭdèttan máowe náwàhn. (He looked at it all.)

"Wejack"

So I thought I would start a blog to promote the upcoming release of my new book "Telluric Voices". Then I thought: "How the heck do I do that? I mean promote myself? Really? How do I do this thing?" Then I looked around the net, read some information on effective ways to go about this and I realized that I was getting way too complicated and worried over nothing. 

Hey! I've been blogging for 6 years now and it never stopped me from writing before right? I have to admit though; this project is near and dear to my heart. After all this collection of poems has been a long time in coming together, I put a lot of work into it and I want it to be taken seriously. 

The "fun" I have used this forum for before should not detract from what I have done in this collection; but it shouldn't be a drag for me to do this either RIGHT?. I enjoy what I do, what I have done and hopefully I will continue to do so in the future. 

Be "ME" is the idea I guess.

~

When I started putting this collection together (This is the serious part but don't worry, there is fun to come I promise!) I had some definite ideas. I jotted some of them down in a descriptive/statement of purpose  as follows: 

"We are connected like never before through vast networks of mass media, across borders, across an ever shrinking world, from city to hollow, we have the capability to be the tipping point, that can diffuse and disseminate into everyday life the magic of sociological change, informed by our hearts and the spiritual telluric energy of our physical and spiritual world. From the top of our sacred mountains, informed by the contemplative solitude of our meditations, we can reach and inform the hearts and minds of our nations.


As seekers of the truth, in a world of declining church membership, in a country where most of the population claims to be spiritual, I believe poets are the new priests. Seres if you will, the conscious heart of feelings, conscious of our surroundings, awake and charged by our environment; able to break through to higher realms others forsake on their path to assimilation among the masses. We are the Druids, Prophets, and Naysayers of our time. Capable of bringing peace to the unsettled hordes. Our spiritual awakenings can tip the balance, bring a new way of solace to a troubled world, and fill the void which consumes our society.


"Telluric Voices." is a cycle of 21 poems + epilogue and follows the poet through the seasons over the course of one year in poetic time. It was inspired by the earth energy of my home in the Helderberg Mountains of New York State and makes extensive use of Algonquin Myth as it may have been experienced by the locally indigenous Mahican and Mohawk peoples."

~

JEEEZ! Is that some serious S*#t or what? Funny thing is, I believe it!!!

~

O.K., Now for the FUN part. I love to read in front of an audience. I didn't used to but I have grown to like it the more I do it. Over the past year I have been listening to recordings of my favorite poets reading their work. I think it has helped me with my delivery. (Sometimes when I'm rushed for time not so much.) I have learned that I need to read slowly, I have to stick to my line/breathe length to be effective. (Sometimes it works, sometimes not so much.) The following SoundCloud Recording is a good example of just this sort of thing: I felt rushed with the telling of my background myth in the beginning but when I got to the actual poem and I looked into my audiences eyes, listened to sound my voice, I knew it was right. The place fell silent, they got where I was coming from. Even though I changed things ever so slightly as I read, I connected well enough so that only I would have known my own mistakes. There is a complete transcript of the poem on the SoundCloud Link so you can read along as I recite the poem. Try it. Close your eyes and listen once without reading the transcription. Then listen again and read along. Let me know what you think.   

The following is a Link 

to the Audio Recording 

on SoundCloud 

of me reading this poem:

Nè ŭdèttan máowe náwàhn. (He looked at it all.)

Oh yeah, just a few more things 

and a couple of back-links

for those who want to know more:

• The title of this poem is in the Native American Moravian dialect of the Mahican Language. 

• For those who are interested in what a real Fisher looks like that I mention in this recording here is a Wiki-link for the The North American Fisher (Martes pennanti) a medium-size mammal native to North America. 

• AND here is a Great description of a Fisher not to be missed from the Octavo Edition of John James Audubon’s “The Viviparous Quadrupeds” of North America.

ENJOY!


...and please, let me know what you think!

`·.,,  ><(((º>

obeedúid~