Jack Grapes (quote)

Jack Grapes portrait, bw.

“We are not urban,

we are not rural.

We are not proletarian,

we are not court apologists.
We are poets and writers of the 21st Century.
We celebrate a cleansing away
of all the soot
of 20th-Century industrial theoretical pollution–
while we embrace every one of its dark particles.
We are poets of transformation and rigidity.
We proclaim the manifest destiny of the pen
and the hand and the computer,
the sentence and the name and face.
We protest and we burn,
we assemble and we build.
We look to the East as well as the West.
We gaze to the North as well as to the South.
We are the dissipative structures
of non-equilibrium thermodynamics.
We oscillate from Being to Becoming,
from Becoming to Being.
We speak no one’s mind
and no one’s heart
but the heart and mind of the collective.
Yet, we care not a whit for the collective;
we elevate the individual,
the collective be damned.
We sleep with chaos.
We dance with tradition.
We garden with the flesh.
We landscape with the mind.
We open with the arm.
We close with the eye.
We resuscitate with the mouth.
We grasp with the heart.
We contradict ourselves.
We sound our barbaric yawp
over the rooftops of the world.”

Jack Grapes

All Rights Reserved

© 2009

6 comments

  1. lkthayer · December 1, 2009

    Thank you Jack Grapes, over and over and over again…–LK 🙂

  2. Leslie Thayer Mann · December 1, 2009

    Fabulous! Here, here!!

  3. Adesh Kaur · December 2, 2009

    Jack, Your poetry is brilliant! “We garden with the flesh.” Yes, indeed. Thank you, Genius Poet and Writer. -Adesh

  4. Jaymie · December 2, 2009

    Incredible observations, I keep revisiting.

  5. lkthayer · December 2, 2009

    “We oscillate from Being to Becoming,
    from Becoming to Being….” ferocious.
    This is to be read & sung! xoxo -LK 🙂

  6. Jackie herzig · December 2, 2009

    Jack,

    What a read…..what a man.

    “We sleep with chaos.
    We dance with tradition.
    We garden with the flesh.
    We landscape with the mind.”

    I see the fiddler on the roof dancing all over this one.

    love you, love your class, love your poetry
    jackie

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