Pharmako Gnosis World Tour Bus (Hey Jeremy!)
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The Links:
Beware of Laughing At The Man Wearing New Balance Sneakers
Gene experts say we are not entirely human
Alien Skulls: The Great Debate
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The Talk at Powells’, June 1st 2006
Jan Introducing Dale…
Jan has been on the Portland book scene for many a year. She used to work at Looking Glass Books, arraigning speaking engagements for many a writer, including Terence McKenna and Martin Prechtel…
She moved over to Powell’s a few years back, and it is always a pleasure seeing her when we cruise by the store on Hawthorne…
Dale Speaking…
Dale spoke first on what he calls, “Horizon Anarchism” dealing with changes that will take place over millenia as opposed to rapid/spiked changes that most people look at as signpost..
The talk went on from there, centered on Pharmako Gnosis… with a reading of one of my favourite chapters…(on DMT) It comes across nicely when it is spoken, the poetic side leaps out in rich detail…
Enraptured….
A nice audience. Good comments, and lots of laughter. In the audience were friends of Dales’ back some 36 years to when they all lived on Gary Snyders’ land in the Sierras. There were several members of Earth Rites there, and many people who I recognized from events around town. Over all, a nice balance…. of smiling faces!
Dale going into detail about the concepts of Horizon Anarchism, and how the state has been perpetuated from so long ago…
The talk was very enjoyable. You will be able to hear it on Earth Rites some time next week I believe, as Jeremy will be sending it up for us to put up for your enjoyment
More tomorrow or Monday, stay tuned! 80}
Gwyllm
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Poetry: Gary Snyder
second shaman song
Squat in swamp shadows.
mosquitoes sting;
high light in cedar above.
Crouched in a dry vain frame
— thirst for cold snow
— green slime of bone marrow
Seawater fills each eye
Quivering in nerve and muscle
Hung in the pelvic cradle
Bones propped against roots
A blind flicker of nerve
Still hand moves out alone
Flowering and leafing
turning to quartz
Streaked rock congestion of karma
The long body of the swamp.
A mud-streaked thigh.
Dying carp biting air
in the damp grass,
River recedes. No matter.
Limp fish sleep in the weeds
The sun dries me as I dance
———
Civilization
Those are the people who do complicated things.
they’ll grab us by the thousands
and put us to work.
World’s going to hell, with all these
villages and trails.
Wild duck flocks aren’t
what they used to be.
Aurochs grow rare.
Fetch me my feathers and amber
A small cricket
on the typescript page of
“Kyoto born in spring song”
grooms himself
in time with The Well-Tempered Clavier.
I quit typing and watch him through a glass.
How well articulated! How neat!
Nobody understands the ANIMAL KINGDOM.
When creeks are full
The poems flow
When creeks are down
We heap stones.
———
The Spring
Beating asphalt into highway potholes
pickup truck we’d loaded
road repair stock shed & yard
a day so hot the asphalt went in soft.
pipe and steel plate tamper
took turns at by hand
then drive the truck rear wheel
a few times back and forth across the fill–
finish it off with bitchmo around the edge.
the foreman said let’s get a drink
& drove through the woods and flower fields
shovels clattering in back
into a black grove by a cliff
a rocked in pool
feeding a fern ravine
tin can to drink
numbing the hand and cramping in the gut
surging through the fingers from below
& dark here–
let’s get back to the truck
get back on the job.
—–
Regarding Wave
The voice of the Dharma
the voice
now
A shimmering bell
through all.
Every hill, still.
Every tree alive. Every leaf.
All the slopes flow.
old woods, new seedlings,
tall grasses plumes.
Dark hollows; peaks of light.
wind stirs the cool side
Each leaf living.
All the hills.
The Voice
is a wife
to
him still.