FROM

               L E S S O N S   I N

                       E C S T A T I C    B I O L O G Y





                                       BY

                               MATTHEW HUDDLESTON


                       [HUDD01.01]
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HUDD01.01 and RIFT01.01 are copyright (c) 1993.  See below for full notice.
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      sketch #2: point self

       scratch the wall and shoot through.
       focus on the wave and the particle,
       the two sides of us,
       but one the prodigal.

       facing all ten directions at once
       we are bound.
       the enclosed point
       reflects a negative universe hoping
       to appeal on the grace of waves:
       the sea a continuous lesson.


       but more often the wavepoints cut us
       without regard.

       we fail to notice
       our static nobility: nails
       to secure us in babble.

       and stronger, as prime,
       we ride the cosmos:
       matter rescinding,
       silence after excitement.

       the study is like that.

       other days
       we know our generations
       form the slower wave of existence.



      sketch #3: a delicate pursuit

       the predators of eden stalk innocence
              no more sulliled in death:
       pause to tumble in the sun, dreaming of guts
       and the first garden.

       while a lamb plays the bait in a tiger's dream of postures --
       the straw dogs are blasted

       our bodies blessed by inner cavernity,
       we spin a skin of relation over the implode,
       sinews of mind cohorting the untamed substrate of black crepe
       and the vessel's battle with ease.

       to escape the fight,
       we struggle against the rapine of meat
       lifting life second
       by ever blackening second
       by the face of bent time:

       shells,
       trapments,
       the environs of life aspire
       to a platform, the roots of a tree
       anchoring possibility,
       the cells of awareness patient --
       stocks for the long inhale of winter,

       and the bridal shine of the grave.




      sketch #4: form as divinity

       the dynamic mouthing of words can whorl as in the wood,
       the words, the populace, and even history --
       but finger nails break in the oven,
       and flesh plays a traitor in the end.

       on this lattice we fix our fate,
       our kingdoms of spirit and form over gas,
       tracing the blood
       squaring the spirals
       marking the emptiness.

       are we caged or set free?
       do these pinions allow flight
       or drown us in the sea's complaint?

       finally, the gods coalesce to explain volcanoes
       and give order to pain
       as the self did, as language does,
       to soothe the barbarous hunt
       with illusion.



      sketch #5: spin

       within the dilution of our thoughts,
       our alloy of manure and speed marks us as both fallen
       and born again --
       from the womb to the light
       and from the light through sentience to surety.

       I place the books together,
       wash the dishes and rearrange the dust
       from reminders of person that say nothing
       but too much.

       on the clouded shore,
       the books tell me:
       death embodies evil when we conceive the point,
       which is but dual half of us.

       I struggle with that mixture.

       consider also the wave and energy,
       how matter is consumed with life:
       the raindropping to merge with a pool,
       shifting allegiance in the sway of orders.

       that is how the cycle attains highest in our enlightenment.

       Brahmma sets the order,
       by act creating is and all that is not.
       the birth begun,
       Vishnu forms a tide
       encased within our linking nets of twine,
       bordered by each spoke of the wheel.

       Shiva dances to chaos,
       each word of consciousness dismembered
       from artifact to artifice,
       a drop no longer divisible,
       the motion contained,
       only the concept unstrung
       when Shiva spins creator to destroy.



      sketch #4: double sight

       everyone two faced,
       opening and then closing my fingers,
       we become a facet of Rangda
       to abide the laws of conflict
       our failure an image in a mirror --

       closer than skin than self
       the blind time ascendant.

       we shimmer
       as his womb colors hope
       her cock a fist of despair,
       trance,
       evoking a passage of points:
       diving through the water veil,
       two world's breathless
       with Rangda incarnate.

       the rotten meat plays counterpoint
       to fruit's ripe curve.
       explosions of bamboo accentuate musical logic
       as Rangda will code switch,
       becoming, as we knew she would, the positive self
       on the crest of evolution

       strong to the will of the world.





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RIF/T:  AN ELECTRONIC SPACE FOR NEW POETRY, PROSE, AND POETICS

EDITORS: Kenneth Sherwood and Loss Pequen~o Glazier         Version  1.1
ISSN#: 1070-0072                                            Fall    1993
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HUDD01.01 and RIFT01.01 are copyright (c) 1993.  All rights revert to
author(s) upon publication.  Texts distributed by RIF/T or e-poetry@ubvm may
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