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"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

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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