Wild Mind

Wild Mind

I’m on the bedroom floor
doing some stretches,
above my head
in the blue rectangle of the skylight
an eagle soars.

I’m thinking about an article a friend sent about “solo polyamory”.

I start a poem:
he was a sensitive guy
he didn’t have the armory
for solo polyamory
he wanted to marry
settle down
maybe do a bit of farmery
somewhere far away
from the clamor,
the goddamery
of big city life.

Well, they can’t all soar like an eagle.

Apropos of nothing
I think about my recent technology issues.
Last week I spent an hour talking to a nice guy from Apple Help,
he was in Arizona, temperature in the low sixties
down where Fahrenheit still rules,
I had iPhone issues which he did not resolve,
he could not meet my iNeeds
but as a result my IOS updated
and every time I turn on the phone
it asks me about my iPreferences
my preference would be to turn on my phone
and be left alone
but call it coincidence, serendipity, synchronicity
because of the update
my Spotify app does not work
so I decide to delete the app
because every time I use it
I think of Joe Rogan
spouting bollocks about freedom
and if, and it’s a big if,
I ever meet Neil Young
I want to be able to look him in the eye.
Now I’m algorithm free
and I’m listening to music
on a chunky old iPod
I found in a drawer
and you know what?
It sounds good and I picked all the songs myself.

I think of an opening to a poem:
he walked into the room
his eyes like fugitives
looking for a window,

I think of a song title:
Stuck in E Minor Again


I think of a song chorus:
born in the wrong key
there was always something different about me
until you came along
and changed my song
now it’s all sweet harmony.

Sappy, yes, but is it sappy enough?

I think of that eagle
I think, what is that eagle thinking?
I think he’s thinking this:
Man, these thermals are good
I could stay here all day.
Hang on a minute
is that a mouse on that garbage bin
in the laneway north of King Edward
east of Dunbar,
they don’t call them eagle eyes for nothing.
Forget the mouse,
I’ve got soaring to do,
soaring to do before the day is done.

In Brendan’s excellent post over at earthweal, he posits, among other things, that “our brains themselves have been disrupted by digital media.” He also says:

The mind must feed on wild sources; greening is both invitation and surrender. Dogen, again: “Are you going to improve yourself or are you going to let the universe improve you?”

Well, that’s where I started.

25 thoughts on “Wild Mind

  1. msjadeli

    Jim, wonderful conversational tone and so much I can relate to. This is a mission statement if ever there was one:
    “Forget the mouse,
    I’ve got soaring to do,
    soaring to do before the day is done.”

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  2. Eilene Lyon

    What a fun little splash through your stream of consciousness, Jim. I enjoy listening to my MP3 player still, though I have Pandora. It really is better to have picked all the songs myself.

    Yes, it’s sappy enough. Sure.

    The eagle would never give up a good soar for the pathetic likes of a mouse. A marmot…maybe.

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  3. Brendan

    I love the foraging here, perambling a mental terrain (or, raptor-like, hovering over a constant stream), sampling this than that trying to decide what’s food and what’s Joe Rogan. The junk food of semithought is like plastic in the ocean, mucking up the wild food chain so … Brilliant illustrations here …

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  4. hedgewitch

    It’s so hard to do a long poem like this and make it hold a spark in every line that leads the reader on, so my hat’s off to you for that first thing. I enjoyed every line, which is also hard to do, too often, and some were lines for smiles and some were the opposite, all blended well and laid on in a continuous flow of energy that is as electric as bluetooth and as natural as eagle feathers and air. And I think it’s important to live a life where you can look Neil Young in the eye. Really enjoyed this, and you made me laugh out loud with “Sappy, yes, but is it sappy enough?” Such a pleasure to read your work, Jim.

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  5. susanstoo

    “Well, they can’t all soar like an eagle” Yet your words in this moment on the floor under the skylight DO SOAR like the eagle, from soaring to pouncing on the mouse to soaring again, ad infinitum. The question is–is the distraction, the food, tiny enough? And rmembering to get on out in the soaring you have to do!

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