upon seeing the Outpost of Pēteris Cedriņš (RIP) in Raudas, Latvia, or the mental riot at the Cafe des Poetes, or Hallucinations/Projections looped upon

 originally the title was this

 "the riot at the Cafe des Poetes, or hallucinations/projections

upon seeing the Outpost of  Pēteris Cedriņš in Raudas, Latvia" 

these are writings that erupted from Pandora's box yesterday...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 moving to the East/ after having been to the West/ then moving East again/ 

as opposed to the Karma of Manifest Destiny/ Go West Young Man/ this is no country/

for old nor young/ nor any blinded by the anthropocenic anthracite/

my Imagination runs into the root of European/ 

going Indo- Deeper -- South --

to explicate the Polar, itself by equators of affection...

Ancient Modes, In Search of Ancient Modes, the Explorer, 

the Exploder,

the Child Who Unties the Shoes

Each instrument creates it's own modes. 

When in search of ancient modes, I found new ones instead. 

Ancestral languages Astral Languages.

Each wave of, each sound of, each piece of, each sending, each language,

fades in the crashed star-fold spore-spray

Each piece of music, each improvisation, contains, unfolds it's own language.

I would not like to see any more Mass Graves please

My microphones. My Ears. My macrophones. My Minds.

The only way I can feel part of any community or society is

when I know that they respect me & my desire to be alone.

a strange formula: the other person's world 

seems bigger than my own
because their world seems to be 

outside somewhere in the infinite
while my own world appears to be bound within my skull
---- how do I find the infinite within my skull opens
into a mind, a mental flower
and every consideration in my brain is galactic
expanding, part of an infinite elsewhere

I hope that on the other side of the sun there is some other sun.

In search of ancient modes, yes, I tend to discover new modes, 

new moods, new warps.

Each instrument like each throat like each ear, 

sets its volume and parameters,

earth is a condition for message, a medium of electrical charge,

each cave a mouth of resonance, every building too dangles with metal cables

each trachea is a scale, a ladder inside the lungs, climbed by breath,

clavicular, tantric. in search of ancient modes I find the modern mind

reaching galactic toes in the starry dragons plunging to ruin the earth with impunity.

in search of ancient modes I find the otherness of the other 

inside the unfathomable music of underground rivers and canals

& that call and response is a kind of echolocation.

galactic mind is the only noble pursuit

but what about earth-mind, tree-mind, bird-brain

let them be joined in oily matrimonies

mis-understand = dreamland

there is never enough time to forget the self

seemingly frost scrape-scape

fluted by fingernails

firstness of form forming

memory of the inner earth

intrauterine earth

natural

grotto furrowed

aeolian accidental

stone harp, hans arp

entangles libretto

host of the holy ghost built on fragments

castles of marxist materials

library of existential brothels

ruts, rotaugen

claimways for nationals

maeterlinck oder metternich, 

aber,

oder albo

fantasy of turncoat

spiritist spitfest

bubble -- title retired

from circulation

Should a fool in folly persist etc etc

textual without sound a non-inclusive

unfinished, missing something

always wonderment in the offing

– a poem for Peteris Cedrins, a poet from Latvia – born 1964 -- deceased 2022

that's what all this seems to be: writing discovered this day

February, 10, 2023

 *****

Here is a photo of Peteris from the 1990's, the period when I met him in San Francisco.

 

Photo by Robert Podgurski

These fragments seem to be derived from various Facebook chats I had with him during the times he was not complaining about me not being enough a patriotic Pole something I simply can't be because I was not born nor raised in Poland and my ancestors merely came through Poland from Ukraine and Moldovia before coming to the USA in 1917. Peteris of course went to the USA into exile with his family, settling in Chicago, I believe. Peteris went to Bard College. He returned to Latvia in his later adult years. These notes seem to be from 2019. I met with Peteris at the New College of California, a poetry watering hole like Bard. Peteris was very fond of telling a story that he and I argued about Jean Baudrillard in that one pub around the corner from NC and he maintains I defended the French theoretician. I have absolutely no memory of this discussion. He later told me that the discussion happened in an etheric dimension, not in the pub. I was to learn later where he got this information.

*****

What about an ordinary mind? Nice to achieve as well, no?

appunto. and yet. there is no ordinary mind. there are perhaps some kinds of personalities that have their own entropic parameters. and yet, that can be altered by how you feed the mind, just as how you feed the body. so, galactic mind could be an ordinary mind. just a different order of the ordinary. there are perhaps just "thresholds" of one ordinary mind that achieves itself, finds itself, wherever it is.

another thing: the galactic seems to sound "large" but it also can move in the other direction, the smaller, the tinier, the subatomic, the elements beyond grasp of immediate ordinary mind. like blake's cosmos in a grain of sand. or further... ultimately, it's about concentration. or relaxation. it can move in many ways.

che pensi?

Where is everybody? __ Enrico Fermi

Rodzimowierstwo

naturopathic vatic vampires, fetishist flesh carvers, subject matters

******* 

Here is photo of the last known place of restlessness

Photo by Kintija Rogers