Paris 2002
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Paris 2002
A Poet's Holiday
(or there and back again)
(ALT texts)



         "Actually these business trips are ok, but
          having to work while away from home is
          patently absurd"
              -- quote attributed to 
                 T'rrr'rr'loch the Travelor

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Opening Dedication:   Arivee a l'airporte

Finally into hard slumber's arms
an old poet's weary body heavily
falls.

And but Lo!  Called from
nature's healing remedy, he
sits shivering at a round table
-- fuzzy-blue-blanket hafl-held
   with one hand (and half
   holding a kleenex)
   the other hand holds 

   a pen.





Of a certain hat, nose and stature

HARD sculpted this clam
-- a nautillas 
   -- of harsh clay 
      of cold soil
is cast the man.

Rounded interiors 
  -- of a man called de Gaulle,
     his airport named after.



Hard won,
a bitter triumph,
a delicate democrocie
teeters ...

                about to fall,


when a kind hand steadies
     the cradle of Chopahn's
     last retreat:

     d'Gaul.



Half torn from on war's wounds,
betrayed and betrayor
easily yield to (mangineau's conquorer,
                 a little corporal)

and to LIGHTENING'S ZOT and startled
    suprise to many a Frankish
    steeded cavalry-mon.

Fizzled fire-cracker rejecting
        the half-breed Saxon's
        offer of:

   The Union of Two Nations
       Frank and Brit.

CAPITULATION,

        OCCUPATION,

                HESITATION.

All is lost.

And yet....





FORGED IN THAT MOMENT'S RUBICON:

One last time
    to leave the third republic's
    shores.

FORMED 
          CAST
                   SCULPTED 
                      


                               resolved.



Made manifest;

a symbol:

  a hat,

    a nose,

      a stature:

                   French:  

de Gaulle.





Pizo Productions presents
(a fully non-diversified subsidiary of FPPC)

"Art Lesson"

Gleeba:  Why so glum, Meepo?

Meepo:  I can't remember:  On the 
        Mona Lisa, are her hands 
        folded left over right,
or right over left.  Or can you 
see her hands at all?  It's 
driving me nuts -- I musta seen
that painting a billion times!!!!

Gleeba: When you have perfection
        you can never see it exactly.
        Ever.

Meepo:  That really helps!





Tau #57

You govern a Kingdom by normal rules;
You fight a war by exceptional moves;
But, you win the world by letting alone.

How do I Know that is so?

By what is within me!



The more taboo's and inhibitions
    that there are in the world,
The poorer the people become.


The sharper the weapons the 
    people possess,
The greater the confusino that
    reigns in the realm.


The more clever and crafty
    the men,
The oftener strange things
    happen.


The more articulate the laws
    and ordinances,
The more robbers and
    thieves arise.



Therefore, the Sage says:

I do not make any fuss,
     and the people transform
     themselves.

I love quietude,
       and the people settle
       down in their regular
       grooves.

I do not engage myself in anything,
     and people grow rich.

I have no desires,
       and the people return 
       to simplicity.




 -[Open img ALT texts in separate window]- 
(Tao Teh Ching by Lao Tzu,
 translated by John C.H. Wu,
 Shambhala Dragon Editions,
 ISBN 0-87773-388-0)





The muses are beyond our understanding.

They guide us in ways that the General,
     The King (or their Guards)
     can never comprehend.

And yet it is by that very 
    distinction that the distinction
    itself arises.

The General and The King demand to KNOW,
    demand to understand.

And they send their guards --
    dumb-footed-portly; but never tasting fat,
    hard-faced-sharp; but never savoring cheese,
    cold-hearted-stern; but never in awe of lightening.

They in all of their mix of lust, greed,
     power, glory, dross
     (and not to forget FAME; 
          the worst drug of all)

They grabble and grains of sand
     (this thing called "understanding").


  -- and yet we do not need to 
     undestand
     know
     control
     have 
     want
     need
     desire

  -- for we are.






He was enticed by her beauty,
   for indeed he had beheld beauty before.

   And he stumbled, his legs giving out.



He was enticed by her charm,
   for charm is a wondrous spell.

   And he seemed as if in a trance of
       un-imaginable delight.


He was enticed by her spirit,
   for the spirit is the direct-essence
       of all things.

   And then he took flight,
       fleeing from her,

   For he recognized these strengths
       within her,
 
   and drew back, affraid.


But.


She only held out her hand to
    form a perch.

And gently, ever so gently,

    he settled dove-like,
    trembling upon her out-stretched hand.


And she said only to him:

    "Go.  For the world needs your words."


And the poet (with small tears in his eyes)
    flew off into the dark night,
    to bring songs of love, peace and hope

    to all.

For.

She is his muse.





Tau #47

Without going out of your door,
You can know the ways of the World.

Without peeping through your window,
You can see the way of Heaven.

The farther you go,
The less you know.

Thus, the Sage knows without travelling,
      Sees without looking,

And achieves wihtout Ado,
    non-ado.

(ref: opus citato, John C.H. Wu)





On thoughts mostly politic

Openning Dedication:

Of things that we think that we know:  Few.

Of those things that we think that we 
   understand:  Fewer still.

Of that which (when we allow ourselves to)
   of those things that we feel:  Infinite.



The Rational Communist recognizes that for
    some, there can only be capitalism.

The Rational Capitalist recognizes that for
    some, there can only be communism.

The sage by non-ado shows to each that
    both are completely correct.



The communist and the capitalist
    see in the mirror their sworn 
    enemy -- and hence the cold war.

    Each defines themselves by the 
         the other.

If the capitalist builds a great tower
   (to proclaim their single ego)
   and this inspires the people with
   the limitless nature of the spirit,

If the communist tears down all
   institutions (to decry the
   selfishness of the aristocracy)
   and this inspires the people with
   the limitless compassion of the heart,

Then they are both the two halves of the tao.



If the capitalist pulls from the people
   all of the products of their days
   work and decries the uniqueness of
   each individual,

If the communist mixes the people into
   an indistinguishable soupd and decries 
   the uniqueness of each individual,

Then they both deny the tao,
     and only sing the fames of
     the ego of the beauty of 
     the nature of the glory of
     the system of their "truth".



The gods laugh at such folly.

The sage wisely records the histories
    of these lost civilisations to be
    studied by sages yet to come, and
    ignored by kings, tyrants, and
    generals yet un-borne, and never will.



The sage understands the tao
    and its one-ness with all 
    things.

The sage understands the tao
    and its two-aspects
    against itself.

(and these too are illusions of
     distinction).

The sage (through much study and
          contemplation),
    realizes and knows that it 
    is the tau, as the tau must be,
    and as the tau is.



The communist and the capitalist
will agree on the division of the
world -- for without light there can
be no shadow.

And without shadow there can be no
"distinguishments".

They both see in the sage (and hence
     in the mystery of the tao)
danger.

For greater danger than each perceives
    in each other, they fear knowledge.

Thus, fear of self-knowledge and 
      self-understanding,
      and ultimately fear of understanding
      their mirror image:

Unites capitalist and communist to battle
       against the same sages in each of
       their dominions.

But, it is their un-spoken fear of the tao,
     that they treuly battle against.




It is comforting for the extreme to
know that its exact opposite exists.

paris-2002-img-ALT-texts.html


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For each:  

   The greatest fear is the vast 
   emptiness of alone-ness.           





Final song (for now):

42

Macro universe within,
micro without:

    "Hold infinity 
     in your hand
     and eternity in an hour"
          -- Blake

But mainly:

  Read poetry!
 
  You'll be amazed at your mile-age!

-- Paris, 2002.
 
NOTE:  Author's afterward.
       The fact that the "dots" mentioned above
       resemble decimal points is purely
       a convenient fiction.





Part 2: Excursions



Paris 2002
A Poet's Holiday
(or there and back again)



         "Actually these business trips are ok, but
          having to work while away from home is
          patently absurd"
              -- quote attributed to 
                 T'rrr'rr'loch the Travelor

The Paris branch of the company that i work for is
located in the Far North-West outskirts of Paris
(called "La Defense").  Charles de Gaulle airport
is in the Far North-East outskirts of Paris).  The
taxi (for four) cost $100 Euro's -- but at least
he found the hotel (down twisty, narrow streets).
Other cabbies droped our other associates off
near the metro (about a 1 km trek up and down 
over steep stairs (with luggage) they had to 
drag their stuff to the hotel -- and they were
charged MORE.  Our cabbie (a chap from India)
was er, ah, an "independent cab driver" (ie,
with no meter).


View from cute little porch (floor 1 is actually 
the second story -- "0" is main level/lobby)




Mazarin bibliotech
(i think)



Amid the stride of a certain iron giant,
in the background you can see a giant 
bird bending down to feed her hungry
construction workers.  These birds
(apparently native to Paris) are every
where to be seen -- giving new breath 
to the phrase:  "Paris a city that is
continually growing and building".




Wearily, upon, a cold, rainy, dreary, early Saturday
Morning (after a nourishing repast of Le Ouef McMuffin
at a nearby eating establishry), a weary poet climbs
the several hundred steps of the Le Grand Arche (the
grand arch) to sit completely centered and gaze
down into the "manhattan of Paris" -- La Defense.
(pronounced La d'fawnss).  Buildings of fantastically
imaginative design: Spheres, Half Arc's, Ovals rise
up out of the ground.  The design is such that sitting
there in the middle you can view in the far distance
(5 or 10 km) the "Arch of Triump" (whose French name 
escapes your present chronicaler at this time).




The north-ward view from the Grand Arche.  The giant 
constructing cranes (Mirabilis Constructoris, variant 
Civis-Pariesiens) can be seen clearly here. 




 
Unfortunately, the icey cold winds bit bitterly
at your present narator's thin, boney fingers
and he had only a brief bit of energy on the
way back to his hotel to sketch the following
bit of train tracks; you can see how the rain
has smeared my ink. Oh, well:  c'est la vie
(such is life).





(Later, fortified with a bit of Baggette, ham, and
Racclette cheese (some where between Mazarella and
Gouda in mild taste), I once more ventured out to
La Defense and it began to wondrously snow, thus
giving rise to the possibility that when all is 
said and done there might just be a god.  And
she is embodied in the spirit of this beautiful
city.)







London

(appears to be a Zonko product
 designed to entice who ever
 reads it...)

Take passport photo and get a   weekpass



  Mustang - Cypriati - hotel near paddington station
                       deli nearby, a store, bus station

  The tube....

Greenwhich - time line place, etc. cptn cook 
             (sandwhich islands aka Hawaiii)

By train to... 

  StoneHinge

  Salsbury Plain

  Cathedral


Bath

  LongLeat - marquis of bath

2 weeks all expenses paid....