dot dot dot

listen, there is an aristocracy
but hidden, hinted at in demeanor
or cropping out, outlying orgule
as if one had tempted: come see your crown
clouds hide fires and the moon is gone
wake dust of stars in the seeming opaque
each conical palp shedding vortex from vertex
of nanokrill instars everready to molt
in their turn shedding vortices, tiny antennae
embedded within the abyss between zero
and dot dot dot (not a number) but wonder
at where in the infinite sequence or ladder
is useless. either the same thing is said,
or—there it goes, rehiving off
the selfsame selfsimilar image
no name in its infinite language
analemmatic, not even for queen
bearing the deluge before her
drowning all but the distal massif
it is ... one cannot say it
aspiring sparks snuffed by failure of deixis
now fading to dark purple dye in the eye
listen: johanna rules the 3rd kingdom

Posted by Søren Renner on Thursday, November 13, 2008 at 05:06 PM in
Comments (10) | Tell a friend

Comments:

Posted by Guessedworker on November 13, 2008, 11:49 PM | #

Got me with this one, Soren. There seem to be references here to macrocosm and microcosm, the microcosm being the biological environment of the human body, possibly. Parasites multiplying. Dark purple dye could be disclosing fluid. Is the eye analemmatic? But Johanna ... a queen?

Confused, confused, confused!

Posted by vo on November 14, 2008, 11:23 PM | #

GW, there tends to be, on occasion, something biblical or of the Greek with SR’s parabolic prose. It may be of no interest, nor a doubtful conscious muse, though I say this woman http://socrates.berkeley.edu/~jbn/ found after a three link thirty second search, may have something important to teach?

Posted by Fred Scrooby on November 20, 2008, 12:57 AM | #

This graceful, deep, austere poem, very hard to understand, is I think at least in part an optimistic assessment of the degree to which our side is starting to awaken and perhaps even the beginnings of a movement of things in our direction, the earliest stirrings thereof, fresh leadership arising, and so forth. I think about half of it is saying something along those lines. The other half I still haven’t deciphered.

Thanks to Soren for posting it. I’m with those who appreciate cultural content here, which of course includes the publishing of fine original poetry, very much so. The other poems of Soren’s, the poems of Prof. Sunic’s wife that appeared in these pages, the poems by CvH, the few posted as comments by Norman Lowell, the entries devoted to the amazing poetry of Kai Murros, and other examples of course, were all much appreciated.

Posted by Fred Scrooby on November 20, 2008, 02:28 AM | #

Prof. Sunic’s wife

Xenia Sunic.

Posted by Al Ross on November 20, 2008, 09:38 AM | #

Christ, gentlemen, cant you identify pretentious verbal mummery when you see it.

Posted by Al Ross on November 20, 2008, 10:06 AM | #

I rambled down to the pub,
And after the beer and ‘mair’,
I came ‘pon closing to a Saxon old,
His bowed head sang despair

And around him was dark on dark,
And the tongue of an alien crew,
And perpetual trust in his fellow Whites,
In a leader no men knew.

Posted by Fred Scrooby on November 20, 2008, 03:43 PM | #

Who wrote that, Al? That was damn good. If you wrote that, I vote for you submitting more of your stuff to be published here.

Posted by Fred Scrooby on November 20, 2008, 03:52 PM | #

Al Ross’s erudition is impressive, I’ve found. In another thread recently I dashed off several names of past participants here who doubtless could out-culture, out-erudition Justin Raimondo — men like Prozium, Wintermute, Rnl, GW, and so on, and as soon as I pressed the “submit” button I said to myself, “Drat, I forgot Al Ross, one of the best albeit it in his own quiet Scots-Calvinist way!”

Posted by Reith Zimmer buchen on November 28, 2008, 01:03 PM | #

meaningful thoughts, you gave me a hard time figuring the real meaning of your words.. its complicated yet intriguing, you got me there.

Posted by Al Ross on December 13, 2008, 04:34 AM | #

Yes, Fred, that is mine and it came from a visit to a pub in Bradford while on leave in UK.