The Great Forgotten Language
"The Great Forgotten Language"
In the forest
Love shows
the way
spreading seeds
strange creatures
come forth
into the clearing
of a known self
some run away
spooked as if
the bare reflection
shows their undressed soul
confronting,
are the peculiar
ghosts risen, speaking
like narratives of old
invincible invoking magic
as if taken from a parable
look homeward angel
there are the benefits
the benefits
of letting go
of that ornery story’s
dull dimensional control
miraculously like
serendipity tripping
fact over fiction
some ghosts appear
to have never
left us
alone
at all
the imprint bound
to heart and mind
through glass teffilin
electric vellum not written
but spoken and heard
called to prayer
in the clearing
of a virtual forest
the peculiars watch
and listen to ghosts
speaking strange thoughts
some turn away
some curious stay
to listen and watch
Love milking the letdown
flowing through the great
forgotten language,
the fresh canvas
that many paint
crystal clear
in the greenness
of their forests
through one will,
will
show
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
llb-gvlm
"lux vitae",
via lucis
“Fiction is not fact, but fiction is fact selected and understood, fiction is fact arranged and charged with purpose.”
Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel
“We do not want to be told what we know. We do not want to call things by their names, although we're willing to call one another bad ones. We call meanness nobility and hatred honor. The way to make yourself a hero is to make me out a scoundrel. You won't admit that either, but it's true.”
Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel
“. . . a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?
O waste of lost, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this weary, unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.”
(“Look Homeward Angel”, Thomas Wolfe)
“A stick is not only wood but the negation of wood. It is the meeting in space of wood and no-wood. A stick is finite and unextended wood, a fact determined by its own denial.”
Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel
“But we are the sum of all the moments of our lives—all that is ours is in them: we cannot escape or conceal it. If the writer has used the clay of life to make his book, he has only used what all men must, what none can keep from using. Fiction is not fact, but fiction is fact selected and understood, fiction is fact arranged and charged with purpose.”
Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel: A Story of the Buried Life
“All serious work in fiction is autobiographical.”
Thomas Wolfe,Look Homeward, Angel
“This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods, strange gods, come forth from the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back.” D.H. Lawrence
“It’s Love”/Vibesnfrequencies
“You Don’t Have to Try So Hard”/Vibesnfrequencies
Copyright © Lady Labyrinth | Year Posted 2023
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