The cells speak through this music. The great turn and counter turn is the moving of the body against light, against dark. In one phrase the sun rises and the sun sets. It is not thinking that stops the breath. Not mathematics, not form. Whenever the music slows, pain becomes visible. The special German terror of not finishing. So life is finished in this partita. What is born must die. You can soar toward immortality but not reach. Earth is the drag on the body, earth spangled in brightness like broken glass. The wholeness is the body dancing in the inner ear, the body finding its end.
-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
john mann poems 
Your content is unassailable in this humble readers opinion. The block form is something I don’t understand. I have used it when nothing else works. Surely it is more than that! A peer wrote an entire book using it. Each entry contained the same number of stresses and the blocks appeared to be identical in shape. That is the “trick” he used to label them as poetry. The block form seems to undo many aspects that I associate with poetry. It seems to me to negate some main differences between poetry and prose. Stanzation, meter, White space, and even the build and ebb of energy within a line. However, I come away satisfied with your whatever it is. It’s really a wonderful meditation on life and art. Damn near perfect.