those letters

I write letters
in my mind
all kind
sometimes
never to be
written down
perehaps
never to be known
or read
or spoken aloud
perhaps
in fragments
here and there
see them anywhere?
a lot have flown
away
others stay
perhaps
it's hard to say
are the letters
that I sign
really mine?

Of the body and the mind

Du corps et de l'esprit, del cuerpo y ... ¿del alma? ... quiero decir de la mente, von Körper und Geist. Also: mind, esprit, mente, Geist viz. soul, ame, alma, Seele ... quiero decir mente, mind, Geist, esprit. I wanna talk about movement and intellect, about dance and erudition.

Un dimanche aprés-midi sur l'ile de la Grande Jatte
Georges Seurat, 1884-1886

What is the woman on a walk with a child in that post-Impressionist painting thinking? What do women think about when they're out walking with the kids? I thought about the body and the mind today. My boy stopped and wanted to ride in the stroller, where his younger sister was riding. "You are built to walk, son," I said to him, "that's why you have legs and feet, now come let's go on." He thought for a minute, I believe he understood. He walked the rest of the way without another word about it. We came to a neighbourhood wall he wanted to climb onto and walk on it. I told him: "Go ahead, if you want to, you know how." He's used to holding Father's or Mother's hand. But I was set on keeping ahead. From our home to my parents' house on foot with a stroller, kids and a canine: roughly an hour. We don't own car, otherwise it would only be about a 5 minute drive. Unbelievable! So he climbs up on the wall and walks on it just fine until he remembers that he is on his own, I suppose, because he starts whining about not wanting to go on his own. "Mami help." "You're doing it just fine, you see!" I reassure him without stopping myself, always an eye on him though. I did hold his hand for the jump down upon his request, I know he still may be too small to master it safely.  He 'd just never walked alone on the wall before, didn't know he could do it. The next walls he would look at and touch, but he never asked to walk on them nor made any attempt to do so on his own. He'll probably sleep on it a night or more. Perhaps he'll pass these neighbourhood walls in contemplative silence many a time again until he realizes that he can do it by himself just fine...pensive, careful and analytical as he is. And when he's ready, he'll just go for it.

I thought about about my intellectual progress in terms of my progress in the dance aerobics class I attend Thrusday evenings. The desire to dance is a matter of passion to me. I know my body is not ready, I'm working little by little towards getting it ready to dance full soul. I recognize my limitations in my inability to coordinate isolated movements of different body parts, in concentrating on counting through the rhythm, in flowing with the music, in letting the breathing just happen, to relax and simply allow for flow to happen - as opposed to hold it in ardent concentration-, in letting movement to movement flow naturally, in tripping over poor posture habits and the like, in being stiff and unable to loosely allow certain body parts etc. Muscles take time to develop and regenerate, so do cognitive paths. Ain't the youngest body in the bunch I got neither! But I still got time. And if not this time next life-time, right? **conspicuous lifting of the eybrows with a smile in the blink of an eye** Anywhoo, development is time-consuming. The brain, the body, yes the mind -biologically, the brain- takes time to assimilate new knowledge, rid itself of unnecessary information and heal from acquired afflictions. I'm the piggy with the brickhouse, well I'm still haulin' bricks, but one day it'll be a house...and I'll surely keep going until it is :) for there is beauty in faith, perseverance, discipline and regeneration.

Butterfly

What I have is little.
I'm stuck in the middle.

To me it's a lot,
'cause it's all I got.

Whatta you wanna be?
I wanna be free

With what little I know,
gonna give it a go!

Der Parasit III

Kind, du bist...
weisst du denn nicht
wer mit dir spricht?
Ich brauch dich auch
so wie du mich.

Bete, kenn' is'
doch kein Hindernis.
Des Lebens Sinn es ist:
Bedeutung inner
vorab nicht
konstruierbaren Welt
jeglicher Zusammenhänge
-auch wenn dir diese nicht gefällt.

Erkenntnis
durch Erfahrungen
deren Bekenntnis
im Angesicht von Offenbarungen
eines Denkers
Herausforderung ist.

Was du siehst
ist was du bist
und was du sprichst,
versprich dich nicht!

Und fürchte nicht,
das Leben ist
kein Urteil
es ist Unterricht.

Der Graben

Mich plagen die gleichen Fragen
die jene in vergangenen Tagen
schon sagen taten.
Welche Antworten werden in diesen Tagen hervorragen?
Mal sind sie schwarz wie Raben,
dann pflegen sie pastellfarben Kragen zu tragen.
Was mag man dazu noch zu sagen haben?

booked

I'm hooked on books
now, I read all the books
yes, all the books I can
that is
so much a heavy book
I read
that my arms are sore after Sunday

Der Parasit II

Tu' es doch!
Sprich mit mir
ich brauch' dich noch
du lebensgebendes Elixier
Gefährte,
Ohne dich
bin ich
doch
nur flüssig Fleisch und Härte.

NMP

Geschichte zum Gedicht: Ein paar verrückte Sprachwissenschaftler haben die Sprache als Parasit beschrieben, der im Gehirn lebt, relativ autonom wirken kann, und Bedeutungen reproduziert. Einer beschrieb den Sprachorganismus stattdessen als Symbiot, der im Einklang mit dem menschlichen Gehirn auftritt. Ich habe mich mit ihren verrückten Theorien befasst und die Idee der Sprache als quasi eigenen Organismus erforscht. Was ist der menschliche Organismus ohne Sprache? Was ist Sprache überhaupt? Und wie existiert sie im und um den Menschen? Hat Sprache ein eigenes Leben? Inwiefern verhält sie sich unabhängig von den Menschen die sie reproduzieren? Gibt es Sprache ohne Denken, Sprechen, Schreiben und so weiter?