Hands Across the Water; Heads Across the Sky

Dear Colleagues,

Hands Across the Water
Heads Across the Sky

One inconvenience I sometimes experienced
in so small a house, the difficulty of getting
to a sufficient distance from my guest when
we began to utter the big thoughts in big
words.

You want room for your thoughts to get
into sailing trim, and run a course or two
before they make their port. (HDT)

&&&

“I have never met a man who was quite awake,”
says Henry. “How could I have looked him
in the face?”

Imagine:

(re-contextualize, ana-chronize: for the sake of ana-logy)

Thoreau with a web cam crowing to wake a
global village, present company excepted, &
stir the mass of myn like sending surgeons
general warnings on packs of Luckies or
engraving them on my chromium
flip-from-the-hip snap Zippo.

As telling as Mothers Against Drunk Drivers
or long lists of side effects packaging pain
killers & dysfunctional sexual bromides.

Like Throwing Rice At a Rhino

I am inured to warnings.
Salved & sealed like a
toad in a pan: warm to
boiling makes me no
never mind. Always
too late the misanthrope.

My Home Land Security
filters the whelm & no
whine’s released before
its time.

Also, our sentences wanted room to unfold
and form their columns in the interval.
Individuals, like nations, must have broad
and natural boundaries, even a neutral ground,
between them. I have found it a singular luxury
to talk across the pond to a companion on the
opposite side. (HDT)

Not quite awake last night wondering about
“paradigm SHIFT” and my environ mental
dissonance. “Shift” sounds glacial, tectonic:
gradual transition in medias res & on the road:
are we almost there, daddy, how long?





Paradigm switch:
now duck/now rabbit.
Not a shift. Click, maybe.
Eureka, possibly.

Continuity on the one hand. Discontinuity on the other.
I might could turn it up: Sames & Differences Game
& see if I can Just Get Along.

A shift! No: Switch, I say!
Switch, then! No, shift, I say!

Textual/Contextual harassmental studies & leadership
programs in the frames of the minds of the perceivers?
Got to love it.

The bullet of your thought must have overcome its lateral
and ricochet motion, and fallen into its last and steady course,
before it reaches the ear of the hearer, else it may plough out
again through the side of his head. (HDT)

Imagine: Thoreau on a web
cam. Couldn’t reach out &
touch across the pond but
look him in the I & see: are
you quite awake? Bullets of
thought having overcome
lateral & ricochet motion,
still alive?

xxxooo, Presbyter