The Tale of Tarzan Adam
The Tale of Tarzan Adam
Genetic genesis
If every cell records my history?
Row on row of nuclei
then a million D.N.A. libraries
span my arm and wondering eye.
I tilt a trapdoor, scan the cobwebbed
spiraling stairway aeons below
sinking in dimensions nucleic
to cavernous haunts of all I know
among forgotten times ancestral
book on book of ancient scroll
reference number, title, author,
past milleniums I stroll
sensing drenching pulses of passion
telepathic ancestor?
thrilling in her voice, shrilling
dissolving in his thoughts, I pore...
through the forest thickly wooded
o’er the little brook I fly
chasing a skin-clad maiden
long loose hair, long lean thigh
laughing, yelling, laughing, teasing
falling, wooing, fleeing still
round an ancient fern I chase her
...in-between those thighs; I spill!
Morning dew on sun-lit green
glistening beads bleed o’er her mane
soft, my eyes she magnetises
soft she hums my ancient name
waning lust-power subsiding
warmth and love for life within
blue and green and gold caress me
ignorant of guilt and sin
beauty all within/without me!
lust for life planted in her
seeds unite, nucleic treasure
willing me all they incur.
Wondering and pondering this
testament of long ago
I take my pen and make an entry
in my own cell-folio
...And now the DNA downloads
detailed records in their place
genetic dreams form myth and fact
and gestate for my future Race.
Every sperm ejaculates history
the squirt and spurt of nebuli
a billion DNA libraries
spray to kingdom come from I
Matj
If every cell records my history?
Row on row of nuclei
then a million D.N.A. libraries
span my arm and wondering eye.
I tilt a trapdoor, scan the cobwebbed
spiraling stairway aeons below
sinking in dimensions nucleic
to cavernous haunts of all I know
among forgotten times ancestral
book on book of ancient scroll
reference number, title, author,
past milleniums I stroll
sensing drenching pulses of passion
telepathic ancestor?
thrilling in her voice, shrilling
dissolving in his thoughts, I pore...
through the forest thickly wooded
o’er the little brook I fly
chasing a skin-clad maiden
long loose hair, long lean thigh
laughing, yelling, laughing, teasing
falling, wooing, fleeing still
round an ancient fern I chase her
...in-between those thighs; I spill!
Morning dew on sun-lit green
glistening beads bleed o’er her mane
soft, my eyes she magnetises
soft she hums my ancient name
waning lust-power subsiding
warmth and love for life within
blue and green and gold caress me
ignorant of guilt and sin
beauty all within/without me!
lust for life planted in her
seeds unite, nucleic treasure
willing me all they incur.
Wondering and pondering this
testament of long ago
I take my pen and make an entry
in my own cell-folio
...And now the DNA downloads
detailed records in their place
genetic dreams form myth and fact
and gestate for my future Race.
Every sperm ejaculates history
the squirt and spurt of nebuli
a billion DNA libraries
spray to kingdom come from I
Matj
Last edited by mat james on Thu Jan 11, 2007 5:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
Hi Mat ~
Adam from the Garden of Eden... Tarzan symbolic of the natural beast?
Your only "tilt"ing the trapdoor lent so much intrigue to the splendid visuals of this:
~ Lizzy
Adam from the Garden of Eden... Tarzan symbolic of the natural beast?
Your only "tilt"ing the trapdoor lent so much intrigue to the splendid visuals of this:
You are so amazingly innovative and creative in your writing. This erotic and beautifully accurate piece makes it such a pleasure to read of your lovemaking. Really incredible perspectives.I tilt a trapdoor, scan the cobwebbed
spiraling stairway aeons below
sinking in dimensions nucleic
to cavernous haunts of all I know
~ Lizzy
Re: The Tale of Adam Tarzan
Hi Mat
Your poem points me to considering what is to me some of the most important work being done in science these days. There are a number of scientists trying to demonstrate that the central dogma of biology is wrong. That the flow of information is in reality a two way process which you also seem to be pointing to.
I see this same movement being demonstrated in the recordings of the mystical experiences of aboriginal peoples that seem to be coinciding with the latest scientific discoveries.
You seem very attuned with the unfolding moment.
Jack
Your poem points me to considering what is to me some of the most important work being done in science these days. There are a number of scientists trying to demonstrate that the central dogma of biology is wrong. That the flow of information is in reality a two way process which you also seem to be pointing to.
I see this same movement being demonstrated in the recordings of the mystical experiences of aboriginal peoples that seem to be coinciding with the latest scientific discoveries.
You seem very attuned with the unfolding moment.
Jack
Sure enough, dude. And u, you keep writing umm, "poetry" cuz u need the practice.
(ironically juvenile dialect, taking into consideration the reply and the poem)
I would have been awesome had it been written in fun. It is sad, now that I see it was not.
zzzzzzzzzzzz,
L
p.s. best line in the thread:
(ironically juvenile dialect, taking into consideration the reply and the poem)
I would have been awesome had it been written in fun. It is sad, now that I see it was not.
zzzzzzzzzzzz,
L
p.s. best line in the thread:
Priceless!it such a pleasure to read of your lovemaking
Yes you would have been if you could just spell "it".I would have been awesome had it been written in fun
Laurie,
It is/was fun to explore an archaic mytho-theme using an archaic form (meter/rhyme and rythm).
It is also fun to explore the zone where genetics and the paranormal matrix and possibly mesh.
And as a poet it is fun to indulge in all this without the prejudice of contemporary fashion.
For me, a poem "happens", usually after the processes of reflection and contemplation. In this case, as mentioned, it was after months/years of wondering about the above themes and of course biblical and modern myths.
And it followed that I wondered about my own genesis, which due to the fact that I exist, must have occured from stardust....to the moment of the initial line of the poem. Where the poem leads and in what form, I leave up to my unconscious: without prejudice. As I implied, it is the product of contemplation.
Of course, from one perspective, even I could label the poem a farce. That is what it is to you and I support the concept that the reader gets a different experience of a poem than the author.
You're close with the "farce" label in that I was excited to laughter after writing the piece, but not in the sense that the piece was futile or absurd; rather in the sense that maybe there is a possibility that memory can be transfered through the genes and maybe if one explores through meditation and contempletion, they can tap this personal history and go back through their own generations; back to their own Eve. I found this possibility a real buzz.
Watson and Crick twisted things a bit! They didn't make their discoveries by being conservative and dominated by the contemporary patterns. Often discoveries (even personal) are made by being a little adventurous and by not dismissing what others might label, "absurd".
So Laurie, your dismissive comments reflect a shallow understanding of this experimental adventure, the poem above.
However, like don Quixote, I will continue to charge windmills despite the sane judgements of others more sensible than I.
And as for favourite lines: I love the line:
(whoever wrote a better line than that!?)soft she hums my ancient name
You can look forward to this mytho-excursion polluting this thread for some time to come.
ZZZZZZZZ ,sleep is good for this type of adventure, perhaps you could explore this theme (genitic familymemory) through your dreams?

Believe me: Thanks for the feedback.

Mat
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
OK,
so we may be able to tap info regarding some personal history of each genetic ancestor as explored in "Genetic Genesis".
And what about psychic transference of history/evolution from cell walls to cell membranes: Plant to human?
The Psalm of an Umbrella plant
(A Green Anthem)
Sitting by the western window
feeling for warm Sun,
I turn my cheek and net the light
Through parted curtains come.
Late noon-beams seek me it seems
Through air and window-pane,
Though on my own I’m not alone!
...a plant joins in the game
turning umbrella leaves
illuminate with glee
unfolding images within
invert the eye of me.
“I chase the Light like you, you friend !
we’re Siblings in the Sun,
come listen to an ol’time rhyme of
how my kingdom come
journey back in time with me
till cold and dark are One,
journey ‘neath the sand and clay
with me; Our Father’s Son!”
dark:::so dark and lonely-cold
I lie the winter through
“is this the destiny for me?”
I cry to who knows who.
I, among the sandy clay
So near to all I need
yet dormant in nourishment
‘till the distant mysts bleed ...
lost in earthy Mother’s womb
I swell in moistened soil
through mud past rocks I strive
and twist and fight and toil
striving ever striving
sensing All instinctively
from unseen realms pangs of light
excite and beckon me
sucking ever sucking
sinking deep in Mother’s breast
diving ever rising
never, never stop to rest
warmer, ever warmer
ever lighter-brighter-be
as I conquer fear of darkness
innate power erupts in me!
Bursting!.... through an emerald crust
I’m drenched in Blue and Gold
sprouting ‘neath a younger Sun
this freedom-day…-of old…
Sitting by the western window
soaking light…warm rays…
is my genetic past
projecting here today?
are you, you leafy friend
putting on this show?
...or is my DNA record
uploading all I know?
I’ll chase that light with you
silent seeker of the Sun;
now or then? yours or mine?
-our Questaeon…is one…..
Matj
so we may be able to tap info regarding some personal history of each genetic ancestor as explored in "Genetic Genesis".
And what about psychic transference of history/evolution from cell walls to cell membranes: Plant to human?
The Psalm of an Umbrella plant
(A Green Anthem)
Sitting by the western window
feeling for warm Sun,
I turn my cheek and net the light
Through parted curtains come.
Late noon-beams seek me it seems
Through air and window-pane,
Though on my own I’m not alone!
...a plant joins in the game
turning umbrella leaves
illuminate with glee
unfolding images within
invert the eye of me.
“I chase the Light like you, you friend !
we’re Siblings in the Sun,
come listen to an ol’time rhyme of
how my kingdom come
journey back in time with me
till cold and dark are One,
journey ‘neath the sand and clay
with me; Our Father’s Son!”
dark:::so dark and lonely-cold
I lie the winter through
“is this the destiny for me?”
I cry to who knows who.
I, among the sandy clay
So near to all I need
yet dormant in nourishment
‘till the distant mysts bleed ...
lost in earthy Mother’s womb
I swell in moistened soil
through mud past rocks I strive
and twist and fight and toil
striving ever striving
sensing All instinctively
from unseen realms pangs of light
excite and beckon me
sucking ever sucking
sinking deep in Mother’s breast
diving ever rising
never, never stop to rest
warmer, ever warmer
ever lighter-brighter-be
as I conquer fear of darkness
innate power erupts in me!
Bursting!.... through an emerald crust
I’m drenched in Blue and Gold
sprouting ‘neath a younger Sun
this freedom-day…-of old…
Sitting by the western window
soaking light…warm rays…
is my genetic past
projecting here today?
are you, you leafy friend
putting on this show?
...or is my DNA record
uploading all I know?
I’ll chase that light with you
silent seeker of the Sun;
now or then? yours or mine?
-our Questaeon…is one…..
Matj
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
Thanks for the encouragement Lizzy.
No, it is not for Laurie. It is for anyone who feels inclined to respond or simply read the stuff.
I find the topics fascinating.
Perhaps the form is less inspirational/more off-puting than I realised.

No, it is not for Laurie. It is for anyone who feels inclined to respond or simply read the stuff.
I find the topics fascinating.
Perhaps the form is less inspirational/more off-puting than I realised.

"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.