"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2017 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw or get my first book and see how the work evolves with new books rolling out next year.

Polly Alice

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

What the old bards knew

The old bards--now extinct--
practiced memories vouchsafed in
velvet purses of poetic rhyme.
They stitched meter with tongues of fire,
stories growing on their breath in
a vapor of song.

Carl Jung--now unsurfaced--
said memories from our collective
unconscious rise to the honeyed surface
of our sleep.  Myths stick to our subconscious
like stamps stuck to a postcard
a postcard with crisp cursive saying,

Dear Ego,
Don't forget what you've suppressed.

We--now past the Modern puzzle--
think memories are saved by
our senses, stored on our FB walls,
secured by our aspiration that
pharmaceuticals and servers
will never go wrong.

And so, I write myself a poem,
a poem for each dream and each memory,
for every crinkled note crammed
in the honeycomb of my mind,
I smooth them out one at a time
and squint at their illegible scrawls--
each story about how we've all loved
different things, and each story
about how we have loved.

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