Friday, March 8, 2013

Hybrid

A late addition to Izzy's out of standard.  Detassling corn when I was a teenager probably had to be the best worst job ever. You would spend 12 hour days walking down muddy corn rows and reaching above your head and taking the tassles off of indentified rows of corn to allow for cross pollination to make hybrid versions. Hot, Muddy, but the pay was good.  The three words I used were mud, heat and detassle.


Man was born from the mud of perception
Twisted into vortices and heated until hair formed
The pressure involved remained intact as frustration
But the cooling process crystallized into granite laced love

Any experience with cognitive existence has to be wonderful
Even if suffering is involved, nothingness stunts joy and sorrow alike
Take from this day a glass of carbon fiber emotion, detassle old paradigms
The composite result is strength of character and human experience

5 comments:

  1. nothingness stunts joy and sorrow alike...

    That line just blew me away, Corey, but I love the whole existential thread, the detassling of old paradigms. Excellent work, and great to know you are back home safe and sound after your Mexican sojourn.

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  2. that's exactly the line i was going to note! wowwowowoww. yes.
    i wrote on exactly that topic yesterday but i like your musing much better.
    welcome home!

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  3. It seems Kerry already spoke on my favorite line...it is so true that nothingness keeps you from growing...moving on. Glad to see you home!

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  4. So true, better to feel all kinds of emotions than be numb or in denial. Awareness does make us stronger. I like the message in this and how you expressed it poetically. :)

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  5. When I read: Man was born from the mud of perception, I gotta say I expected the next your next line to start with. "but woman...." and that just goes to show how you continue to grow with your poems. One of the reasons I keep reading your work outside of the fact that they are well written and well thought out, you continue to push that pen into territories unknown and bring back shiny, hefty treasure for the rest of to scared to leave the ranch.

    So: any how about this particular poem.....
    I was intrigued by your tone and how each stanza feeds into a sort of meta narrator, who in my mind is set out to reveal the splintered bones of the universe and heal them at the same time. How comforting. Also, this line stood out to me: nothingness stunts joy and sorrow alike. Now there's a line I cold tattoo on my black heart! Viva la and thanks for participating in the out of standard!

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