RANT by Diane Di Prima

Friend,

Do yourself a favor today/tonight/whenever and LISTEN to Diane Di Prima reading her poem, “Rant” (4:22):

 


After hearing this poem again for the third time in the past few days, I find that some of the lines have decided to move in with me. They’ve taken up residence here in my living room; some have flopped down on the couch and are eyeing me like a vagrant cat on a city stoop, seeming to say, “Yeah? So what I’m lyin’ here? Whatsit to ya?”  

Others are drifting through the hallways, whispering, “The guy at the gate with the flaming sword is yourself… 

So, these lines and I commune…

 

~ “You cannot write a single line without a cosmology,  a cosmogony…”

~ “The work stems from the heaven you create…”

~ “The undead seek to inhabit someone else’s world…”

 

The only war that matters is the war against the imagination.

The only war that matters is the war against the imagination.

The only war that matters is the war against the imagination.

 

There is no way out of the spiritual battle.

 

~ “There is no way you can NOT have a poetics… no matter what you do. Plumber, baker, teacher… you do it in the consciousness of making or NOT making your world… You have a poetics.”

~ “The guy at the gate with the flaming sword is yourself. 

 

DIG IT.

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