Wednesday, March 20, 2024

"An Inconvenient Earth" - A Poem

 'ello! 'ello!

Here for everyone's apocalyptic enjoyment are a few verses I tossed off back in March of 2020, right when pandemic lockdowns were taking hold across the globe. Perhaps, I was feeling a little more pessimistic than usual at the time ... just a little ... but then I quite forgot about the poem for some time--the title of which is an obvious play on the title of the climate documentary, An Inconvenient Truth

I'd recently started making an effort to collect my scattered song lyrics and poems into a single folder and had a devil of a time finding this one, to the point that I half-thought I'd imagined writing it in the first place! Fortunately, my marbles have not all entirely rolled out my brain pan and I found my original draft last week. I'd long had a concept for how I wanted to present it on a page and, while what you see here does not entirely match my original conception, it's pretty close. The only thing really missing is a pair of cut-out legs ala Terry Gilliam doing a stiff-legged silly walk across the beach ... but I thought they'd clutter up the page. And I couldn't find just the right pair. 

I've also liberally borrowed the Ship of Fools from Heironymus Bosch's eponymous piece. I don't think he'll mind. He's been dead for quite some time. Probably would be happy that his work is still living!

Anyhoo, without further ado, please enjoy "An Inconvenient Earth" and feel free to cry or dance or howl with laughter at the moon in response. Or all three at the same time.


- DH

Monday, February 12, 2024

The Old Hermit of Silesia, part II - A Short Story

 And here we are, the conclusion of the short story, 'The Old Hermit of Silesia'!

Greetings once again, everyone. If you read the first installment--and I thank you if you did--then here is final half of the tale of Mikhail Osterhoff and the strange old man who wanders the Silesian Mountains.

Thanks again to MD and also LG for revisions and feedback. Much obliged!

May love guide your actions and your words as I hope it has this little work of mine.


- DH

 Without further ado ...

Wednesday, January 31, 2024

The Old Hermit of Silesia, part I - A Short Story

     Salutations and season's greetings!

Just as promised, here is my short story, 'The Old Hermit of Silesia', just in time for Chri--Wait ... What day is this? The 31st of January, you say? Possibly, February 1st? (Depending on what part of the world you're in.) Possibly not even 2023 nor 2024, but some other year entirely?! Have we come untethered from time and space at long last?!?! 

Nah, I just am far later than I hoped in getting this story rough-finished, typed, edited, proofread, edited again, proofread again, formatted and posted, while simultaneously dealing with a sick child, a sick me, actual paying-work deadlines, and the various and sundry family business to take care of. (Including, I must confess, a lovely family trip to parts mountainous, forested, beflowered, oceanic, bespeckled with local culture, and becatted.)

Aaaaaaanyway, part I of the story is done and, barring any glaring but overlooked mistakes, I'm ready to bestow it upon the world. (Well, I'll be bedamned--I must stop doing that.)

Much thanks to MD for editing assistance and feedback!

Without further ado, enjoy The Old Hermit of Silesia', part I.

- DH

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Fragmentation: In Search of Cohesion ... What's going on now?

 Greetings all and sundry! 

Sundry? No, you're all important, whoever you are, though your purpose be a mystery to me. I sit down to write this post without much plan as to what exactly to put down, except for two articles of note. To wit...

    "Nothing availed the poet, he could right no wrongs; he is heeded only if he extols the world, never if he portrays it as it is." (p. 15)

That is the first quote I marked in a book I've recently begun reading called 'The Death of Virgil', written by one Hermann Broch, who began writing it while in a German concentration camp. It's a quote that I would think would appeal to one such as Joni Mitchell, who is fond of quoting a passage from Nietzsche's 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra' on the superficiality of poets and poetry--"They did not think sufficiently to the depths, therefore their feeling did not get to the bottom." The Virgil in Broch's book is distraught and near death, and Broch strings out Virgil's inner contemplations much as Proust strung out the scent of a madeleine; his writing is florid, poetic and deep. Having been close to death as he was when he began the book--Broch died in 1951--Broch writes as one very close to the essential subject matter, which goes beyond Virgil and his time as a celebrated Roman poet. Here's the second passage I marked:

    "Greater than the earth is light, greater than man is the earth, and man's existence avails him nothing until he breathes his native air, returning to the earth, through earth returning to the light, an earthly being receiving the light on earth, received in turn by the light only through earth, earth changing to light." (p. 17)

Or this, the third:

    "Oh grass, oh leaf, bark-smoothness, bark-roughness, vitality of the burgeoning, in this branching out and embodiment ye are earth's darkness made manifest!"  (p. 18)

There is much that has spoken to me already in 'The Death of Virgil'--and I'm only 28 pages in!--that speaks to things transcendent, to aspects of life (and death) that are more subtle than we rarely give more than a passing thought to, and rarely do most of us take the time to actually turn off our rational, thinking minds long off to simply be in the presence of these things, which are inherent in all things at all times.

Here is the fourth passage I marked, and in my mind, it speaks to a fundamental spiritual concept that as human beings, the world we are born into is ultimately unsatisfactory, that we are missing something, that we experience ourselves as separate and apart from each other (and even ourselves at times) while we are yet part of this great infinite whole:

    "[For] insufficient was the desire of hands, insufficient the desire of eyes, insufficient the desire of hearing, sufficient alone was the desire of heart and mind communing together, the yearning contemplation of the infinity within and without, beholding, hearkening, comprehending, breathing in the unity of the doubled breath, the unity of the universe, for by unity alone one might overcome the lowering hopeless blindness of fearful isolation ..." (p. 19, emphasis mine)

In short, I'm thus far fascinated but it's a hefty tome and some sentences flow on for quite some time, so it's also a rather dense--but beautifully dense--read.

My second topic shares a point of relation that I will not reveal, suffice to say that I've nearly finished the rough draft of a new, previously-mentioned short story, now titled 'The Old Hermit of Silesia'. I've but to write the ending passage, which as of now is still stewing in my head but ready to begin putting to page. It is a story that I have to confess to being somewhat fearful of sharing; it's a story that challenges certain commonly-held notions and also gets into some very unpleasant things that may be difficult for some people to read. There is violence, and fear, and a reckoning with the dead that I hope, however, ultimately speaks to the possibility--nay, the certainty--that all things, for better and for worse, will pass in time, and that all that we see and experience as evil will have its place alongside all that is good. I'm hoping to have it done in time for Christmas! 

Here you see a sketch that I did a couple of days ago, a sort of mock-up for what would be the cover. Perhaps I could get someone with professional skill to turn it into the appropriately dark, fire-lit scene that it is meant to be? In any case, it gets the idea across and will hopefully spark some curiosity amongst you, whoever you may be reading these words. (Don't be shy if your own thoughts are sparked by anything I share on this humble blog and wish to return the favor!) 

I will likely publish the story in two or three parts with my cover sketch, perhaps modified or hopefully enhanced, and will share the first part in the next week or two.

So! That's what's going on now.

May you all be well,

- DH

Sunday, October 29, 2023

Fragment: The Ruin

     It's been but a year since my last Fragment, but as mentioned in previous posts, there was actually a fair amount of work done in the intervening period. And since I've gotten this particular, elucidatory engine running again, a variety of verbal onslaughts await to be launched upon the unsuspecting masses (such as they are, the few who may read these ramblings of mine). At the very least, you can rest assured no innocent people will be harmed by anything I have to say. 

    Chapter 2 of Even the Gods Must Die is nearly ready to publish; it's written and revised, so I have only the layout to prepare. I'm still preparing the layout for my article on 'Cleanliness is next to Godliness'; it's been slow going on that one as I've jumped around on these different projects.

    I've recently been listening to a podcast called 'I Can't Believe It's Not Buddha' by Neil Webster and Lee Mack (whom I primarily know from the comedy panel show Would I Lie to You?). I recently discovered that Lee Mack has been practicing meditation for some years now and, perhaps if you're familiar with his work as I am, he doesn't strike me as the type. ;^) Anyway, this is all in light of my previously published piece 'About Dreams, Dreaming and Connection' for which I heard a quote in the podcast that struck me as directly relating to that article's theme. So, give the quote a read and re-read the article if you're so inclined. 

    "Awareness is all their is to experience. All their is to thought is thinking and all their is to thinking is awareness. All their is to emotion is feeling and all their is to feeling is awareness. All their is to sensation is sensing and all their is to sensing is awareness. All their is to perception is perceiving and all their is to perceiving is awareness. Thus, all their is to experience is knowing. It is knowing that knows this knowing." -- 'Being Aware of Being Aware', Rupert Spira

    It speaks somewhat to the difference between the dreaming mind and the waking one, the diffuseness of what is experienced in the dream state, how the egoic mind is present but incoherent, unable to coalesce in relation to what is being experienced, because what is being experienced is itself a creation of mind, pulled together from the flotsam and jetsam of undigested memory and association. And yet, perhaps that fundamental basis of human experience that is awareness is felt all the more keenly for the ego's lack of cohesion, and that this awareness is not only inherent in all human beings, but is the same awareness. And so this awareness continues to exist ... even after the death of egoic mind of the individual human being.

    Also, in light of recent tragic and ongoing human stupidity, this particular fragment should speak to the undigested memories and associations, as well as the unresolved traumas that continue to play out in realtime, festering, spreading, and consuming. What we do unto the least of our brothers and sisters, so we do unto ourselves.