Señor Wences rides again!

Archeology

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the secret is thanks to sedimental fools dusting off the ashes of timeburn

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the evre elastic clues revealed in pots of water and earth,
clay tablets with reed'd shapes spelling tales
long and deep as ocean is wide
and solid as heaven is true

the only way we can know what happened here 250 years ago
(even before BCE as writ was first wrought)
is because someone took the time to write it, draw it or paint it
grounding its lifeforce into earth terms
passing down tales of creation and destruction
and every variation
through many generations
changing through gestations

the only way we can tell how thinking has evolved –
even as it is timeless –
is to decipher forgotten tongues
into today's remarkable lexicon of jargon,
repartee, turn of phrase,
unforgettable soundtracks and
the beepbeepblip of images and sound
that used to be 60 second spots,

then two 30s

now four 15s, and often unworded

BEEP –––– message conveyed

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the libraries of babylon
filled with previous generations' tools and belongings
are aflame now that more than 25 years information has been reduced to 0001001110100100101001000111101

not written through hands

and nothing to hold
feel
smell
touch
in direct transmission

no handwriting
as intrinsic clue to the moving hand

can bytes and pixels survive to be transposed in the another future?

ancient sumerian musical notations are
still playable today
on instruments rebuilt
from surviving pictures and instruction

huang po
whose sages who,
abandoning learning,
came to rest in spontaneity

mark twain
whose autobio is finally public,
a century beyond his greatly exaggerated passing

the shard of an ute pot
made 7000 years ago
textured like woven basket

like a tale woven into
collective unconscious,
referred to by metaphor
a shorthand in commontongue,

a tale handed down, woven into a collection of the most sacred word
made up of all sacred words from many times before

somewhy proclaimed as prophecy

although
it seems like it's one thing after another,

the same thing over and over
is more like it,

woven into belief systems, enforced by theology's
overfull basket of world woe

now the libraries of sumeria are burning
with the loss of personal historical perspective
perceptive in the connection 'tween handwrit and heartmind,

the mystery of that moving hand and flaming pen
that writes and having written, writes on
even as one can barely hold on to it
and can't take time to read what it's writing
(though the bumpersticker proclaims "the penis: mightier than the s word")


dig

beneath the surface
like you're reaching into sky
languages blossom
with a puff of breath blowing centuries away

beneath the surface, bituminous layers peel back
showing rainfall
tools
charred ash and bone
burial customs
weather pattern skywriting
cave paintings' glyphs of creation
as hootowls relay calls dark night on

han shan writing poems on rocks

leonara's theatre temple of the word

heckle and jeckle's 20 second theme

oceansky sound

heronfeather's steelypowderblue

dig a little deeper

lukachukai navajo elders
singing the arizona night

hamza el din's ancient nubian oud


kenneth patchen: "...so many little dyings, it doesn't matter which of them is death"


señor wences, johnny, pedro and cecilia chicken


the first named author, enheduanna, ornament of the sky,

now dig


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