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| ruth wildes schuler |  | 1. MIND OVER MATTER A mind sweeper crawls slowly across my brain trying to explode an embryo of originality from out of the great psychic-void. The muses presented such to the ancient Greeks. David pulled psalms out of deep pastures, but my originality seems to have been plowed under the surface of the earth, lost like Atlantis. When one is tired, a mind field is a dangerous place, so I’ll wait until tomorrow and return with a tank to try and hatch some tranquility out of the broken shells of my dreams. 2. POETIC TREK I have traveled the earth trudging among the broken statues of Easter Island, listening to the children of Pitcairn Island sing hymns, felt the icy blast of Dutch Harbor winds and swam in the Black Sea. On my poetic search I climbed the Great Wall of China, rode a camel near the great pyramid of Giza, walked within the walls of the Kremlin, through the barb-wire horror of Dachau and observed the blood stained walls, ovens and bins of suitcases, shoes, and false arms and legs in Auschwitz. I saw the ice floes of Greenland, the Monkey Dancers of Bali, the Berlin Wall, the ruins of Dresden, the Komodo Dragon, the glaciers of Alaska and many churches and castles. I saw Mongolian cowboys riding camels, and ate the rare fish of Lake Baikal Always searching. I saw joy, sorrow and fear among this planet’s people. Russians were afraid to speak to us, while the Chinese wanted to practice their English now taught on TV instead of the previous Russian. I ate a feast of all the world, and it all mixed to form this persona, this person, this poet, and this poem. | |
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