{"id":14380,"date":"2022-09-13T07:14:00","date_gmt":"2022-09-13T05:14:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=14380"},"modified":"2022-09-13T07:14:00","modified_gmt":"2022-09-13T05:14:00","slug":"poems-by-db-jonas","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=14380","title":{"rendered":"poems by DB Jonas"},"content":{"rendered":"

Freud in London in the Rain<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2026 I thither went<\/p>\n

With inexperienced thought and laid me down<\/p>\n

On the green bank to look into the clear<\/p>\n

Smooth lake that to me seemed another sky.<\/p>\n

John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book IV<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Too late now to reconsider our departures.\u00a0 It is too late.<\/p>\n

The way the mind of man proposed to us a pond, appeared<\/p>\n

a pond beset with swans, or a pond\u2019s reflection in the sky.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But we must carefully reconsider our mistakes. The way<\/p>\n

we trolled for catfish in the mud, for the specific creature<\/p>\n

busying the powdery floor, far beneath the pale reflections.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When the Unconscious world made its first disappearance,<\/p>\n

we dreamed we thought we saw it diving into dark domains.<\/p>\n

A lifetime\u2019s listening showed us otherwise, that the secrecies<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

all shine brightly in the common air, and flash and vanish,<\/p>\n

and were never really here, these never-wounds that creatures bear,<\/p>\n

the injuries of absence everywhere, asking only to be borne,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

that must, in some small way, be recognized and even loved,<\/p>\n

a kind of gravity we all possess but cannot share, that speaks<\/p>\n

in all we do and what we flee and everything we fear.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I think that I could start again now from a different spot,<\/p>\n

watching through the spattered window panes a rain-soaked street,<\/p>\n

and somehow try to redirect the misconceptions of our art,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

this unread knowledge of the known and knowable world<\/p>\n

that lives outside the fiery symbols, outside the fiery mind itself,<\/p>\n

this dispossessing atmosphere where life and thought take place.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But I am old.\u00a0 And just perhaps the work we\u2019ve done<\/p>\n

will one day surface in another sky, an altogether other space<\/p>\n

where all my too-familiar words have shed their common sense<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and all the loyal acolytes, so quick to parse and paraphrase,<\/p>\n

give way to these my hard-earned laws of life and quiet science,<\/p>\n

of a world we can\u2019t deny, consigned so long to silence.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Die Welt ohne Eigenschaften<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

All there is is number. Number is in everything.<\/p>\n

Number is in the individual.\u00a0 Inebriation is a number.<\/p>\n

Charles Baudelaire<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When number held your perverse flesh<\/p>\n

suspended in the womb-warmth<\/p>\n

of your incompletion<\/p>\n

in that time before your loud becoming<\/p>\n

it was then you knew the meaning<\/p>\n

of each pulsing systole of belonging<\/p>\n

each diastolic throb of grief.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We harbor in the upright world<\/p>\n

the vestige logic of an amniotic sea<\/p>\n

where sense arises in sensation<\/p>\n

and intensities insist upon the skin<\/p>\n

where meaning means significance<\/p>\n

the urgency of something pulsing<\/p>\n

in the stark immediacy of distance<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

in a world before quality<\/p>\n

in a place without location<\/p>\n

in a time more intimate than memory<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

where in quantity alone we\u2019re held afloat<\/p>\n

devoid of messages and numerals<\/p>\n

but made of number.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Freud in London in the Rain \u00a0 \u2026 I thither went With inexperienced thought and laid me down On the green bank to look into the clear Smooth lake that to me seemed another sky.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1569,77],"tags":[1591,1570,1123],"class_list":["post-14380","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-73","category-english","tag-db-jonas","tag-egophobia-73","tag-english"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3JW","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14380","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14380"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14380\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14381,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14380\/revisions\/14381"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14380"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14380"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14380"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}