jueves, 9 de febrero de 2017

Mi Jornada hacia la Vida, Día 972, New way of living poetry

"Center of all centers, core of cores,
almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet--
all this universe, to the furthest stars
all beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.

Now you feel how nothing clings to you;
your vast shell reaches into endless space,
and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.
Illuminated in your infinite peace,

a billion stars go spinning through the night,
blazing high above your head.
But in you is the presence that
will be, when all the stars are dead."

Rainer Maria Rilke.

For several reasons I have been very exposed to a lot of different kinds of poetry and whenever I would hear a poem, I would remember Bernard´s words when he explained how the use/abuse of words within poetry was only for the purpose/sake of creating an experience out of it, and in nutshell: "Poetry is just something to wipe your ass..."

And I mean, I actually think that Bernard had a very accurate observation in this regard, cause many times I found myself searching for this kind of delusional experiences to feed some reactions or emotional experiences within myself, call it an experience of depression, or self pity, or love or whatever...

Yet, what happens when we make the words meaningful? What happens when we actually live the words and make a commitment of who we are and what we are going to live within and as them? 

But it is quite interesting when you find or read about for instance the cases of the Guantanamo prison in which the prisoners were not allowed almost any form of expression and as they were tortured in stress positions like for instance remaining standing in a chair or a box for hours with their arms wide open without being able or allowed to move, and if you believe that that´s just something very simple to do, I dare you to stand in the ground with your arms pointing to the sky in like a "Christ position" for 20 minutes and then come and tell me that keeping someone for hours in such position it´s not a form of torture.

But above all things that they did was that they began to recite poetry, their OWN poetry.

Original link of the following article: Poem´s from Guantanamo 

“At last Guantánamo has found its voice.”—Gore Vidal
“Poetry, art of the human voice, helps turn us toward what we should or must not ignore. Speaking as they can across barriers actual and figurative, translated into our American tongue, these voices in confinement implicitly call us to our principles and to our humanity. They deserve, above all, not admiration or belief or sympathy—but attention. Attention to them is urgent for us.”—Robert Pinsky
“Poems from Guantánamo brings to light figures of concrete, individual humanity, against the fabric of cruelty woven by the ‘war on terror.’ The poems and poets’ biographies reveal one dimension of this officially obscured narrative, from the perspective of the sufferers; the legal and literary essays provide the context which has produced—under atrocious circumstances—a poetics of human dignity.”—Adrienne Rich
Since 2002, at least 775 men have been held in the U.S. detention center at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba. According to Department of Defense data, fewer than half of them are accused of committing any hostile act against the United States or its allies. In hundreds of cases, even the circumstances of their initial detainment are questionable.
This collection gives voice to the men held at Guantánamo. Available only because of the tireless efforts of pro bono attorneys who submitted each line to Pentagon scrutiny, Poems from Guantánamo brings together twenty-two poems by seventeen detainees, most still at Guantánamo, in legal limbo.
If, in the words of Audre Lorde, poetry “forms the quality of light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change,” these verses—some originally written in toothpaste, others scratched onto foam drinking cups with pebbles and furtively handed to attorneys—are the most basic form of the art.

Death Poem

by Jumah al Dossari (mp3)
Take my blood.
Take my death shroud and
The remnants of my body.
Take photographs of my corpse at the grave, lonely.
Send them to the world,
To the judges and
To the people of conscience,
Send them to the principled men and the fair-minded.
And let them bear the guilty burden before the world,
Of this innocent soul.
Let them bear the burden before their children and before history,
Of this wasted, sinless soul,
Of this soul which has suffered at the hands of the “protectors of peace.”
Jumah al Dossari is a thirty-three-year-old Bahraini who has been held at Guantánamo Bay for more than five years. He has been in solitary confinement since the end of 2003 and, according to the U.S. military, has tried to kill himself twelve times while in custody."
Now, you may say that poetry is not going to change the situation that surround us, like the whole amount of events that are just coming right directly to us from all sides, but is not about changing the situation, the situation exists, as death exists for instance, there is little to nothing that we are able to do about it (and I mean, of course we were able to prevent it, but that would us speaking in the "maybe´s", the "if we just had, if we just had not", we now have the result of what we have created and it is done, the thing is "what or who are we going to be now that we have this situation in front of us" and sometimes, one is just a couple of words away of changing whatever it is that we need to solve within ourselves to be able to change. 
A Poem can be as long as one word, one letter, the only thing that we need to do is to give it a meaning, to live a meaning, which is something that I have found one is able to do with the Desteni principles, when one redefine a word and actually commits oneself to live it. You decide the meaning, you decide the redefinition, the question is "What are you going to mean/make your life within that single word".
Thanks for reading.