Acts of defiance will often be subtle and nuanced. They will be carried out not for short term gain but the assertion of our integrity. Rebellion will have an ultimate if not easily definable purpose. The more we retreat from the culture at large the more room we will have to carve out lives of meaning, the more we will be able to wall off the flood of illusions disseminated by mass culture and the more we will retain sanity in an insane world. The goal will become the ability to endure.
“I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy.”
It is very difficult to maintain control in opposition to such influence. If you check up in your own life, I am sure that you will find many examples of this. Such influence is not limited to bad friends or good friends. In your life you have so many “teachers,” people who feed you information that only adds to your delusions. Therefore it is very important to stay around those people who give you the right vibration, the wisdom vibration. This is much better than exposing yourself all the time to polluted, confused vibrations. But this does not mean that you give up completely on all misleading friends, hating them and having bad thoughts about them. No, this should not be your reaction. It is essential always to remain compassionate. Also remember that we are polluted already; our friends are not to blame for our delusions. Their influence just makes this pollution thicker and thicker.
I’ll be gone for good, out there with the creatures in the woods
And I’ll be understood, make friends with the pagans in the nude
I want what is left:
The tea leaves, the soiled images on cards,
The gasp of words as meaning slips away,
The rinds of the alphabet,
The chewed poems of prisoners,
The bones and the skeletons,
The secretions, the shattered sperm,
The blind blood, the phlegm and the cough.
It has always been women’s work to prepare the corpse.
But, I will not make a corpse from these elements,
I will make a child.
I will make you such a rose of a child,
A rose of a child held in the crook
Of the dark hand of a dead branch,
I will make you a child shining
Like an angel from these elements of dark,
And the child will sing.
This is what we have
This is what we have to work with.
So give them to me,
First your dead, moldering
In the dreadful heat of your deserted cities,
Then give me the iron birds in the sky,
With their demented warbling,
Last, I want your radiant soul
With its eternal shimmer.
Give me everything mangled and bruised,
And I will make a light of it to make you weep,
And we will have rain,
And begin again.