archaeologist of the soul

Critiques, prompts & challenges.
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gypsyjoker
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archaeologist of the soul

Post by gypsyjoker » May 21st, 2008, 10:47 am

he found it so remarkable
the overcoming of
the life force
instinct that makes a person cling to life
until the day
in london
1939

when with a little help
from a friendly doctor
he over came himself

a dance
to a heart rythm
a sacred beat
the universe is beige
the music of the spheres
a dirge

eat drink and be merry
tomorrow you could be in Utah
Free Rice
Avatar Courtesy of the Baron de Hirsch Fund

'Blessed is he who was not born, Or he, who having been born, has died. But as for us who live, woe unto us, Because we see the afflictions of Zion, And what has befallen Jerusalem." Pseudepigrapha

westcoast
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Post by westcoast » July 4th, 2008, 11:33 pm

excellent poem.

reminds me of assisted suicide, is that included in the piece?

~westie

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stilltrucking
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Post by stilltrucking » July 5th, 2008, 9:32 pm

It is about Freud's doctor assisted suicide
But that is just the bare fact.

It has more to do with a walk that Freud and Rilke took in the summer of 1913 in the Dolomites.
More to do with the looming war--- More to do with Freud's hegira from Vienna and the N*zis. More to do with his despair at seeing the catastrophe happening again despite his reassurances to Rilke

Twenty-seven operations for cancer, and he refused to take morphine, did not want to cloud his mind while he worked on his last book Moses and Monotheism.

I think Rilke saw what was coming down more clearly than Freud.

I think Freud envied poets, he would say that where ever he went a poet had been there first.

Freud makes more sense as a cultural anthropologists,

His office.

My father an atheist jew found his holy trinity in the Ego Id and Super Ego. To understand myself I had to understand my father, and to understand my father's torment I could only go through Freud. It was a fetish of mine for many years. But I am so much younger now.

Thanks for reading and asking me a question, it was an opening for me.

westcoast
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Joined: March 8th, 2008, 5:53 pm

Post by westcoast » July 5th, 2008, 10:11 pm

what a gorgeous alpine field set against the Dolomites.

Freud's office reminds me of my shelves with arcane knick knacks featured :)

i'm glad the question prompted you. seemed like there was a lot behind the poem and you have revealed much.

keep writing, friend.

~westie

mtmynd
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Post by mtmynd » July 5th, 2008, 11:48 pm

i, too, liked those (2) pics, truck (here i am calling you 'truck' after agreeing i would not do so, some time ago...)... and your mention of id, ego, super-ego... well, we've been there, too. your father, your memories... growing in your later years..?

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stilltrucking
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Post by stilltrucking » July 6th, 2008, 1:42 am

Freud is "a quarry not an edifice"
<center>The writing cure</center>


The old woman throwing herself on his coffin shrieking. And the young man of two and twentie thinking WTF? All these years you turned me against him so why all this show of grief? Of course he did know until years later when he stood at his grave with his sister why his mother had killed him.

Oh yeah
Oedipus wrecks
but mourning becomes electra.

Oh the things we do for love

And for years her daughter thought she did nothing to protect her from him.
A puzzle that keeps Unraveling.

What it is
is about transience
not suicide

Freud's Requiem



Yeah those trinities are mother fukkers
gimmee a duality any day.

Well with all the deletions I am down to 9500 posts again, maybe when it starts bumping ten thousand again (i think it was about 9966 when I started deleting) nine nine six six now there is a symetrical number

I guess it I was a poet I might have been Anne Sexton. Confession so good for the soul. DId I tell you the bit about almost strangling her, the look on her face, did she remember his warning about me "someday you will regret this" as she put herself between us?
So she beat on me, and it worked for a while, till jitterbug told me what to do. "don't cry, just let her hit you" and he was right once I just stood there and took the hits until her arm got tired she never beat me again.
But I never did overcome my fear of that basement with the smell of dead rats with maggots until I was in my thirties and finally faced my fears with the help of lysergic amides and Nietzsche. Yeah even freud realized the answer was better living through chemistry.
But please Dianne Linkletter don't try that at home.


Am I growing
I guess

if six was nine
am I awake?

Call me ishmael
I am practicing forgetting my name
I awoke one morning and could not remember my name
It was a nice feeling
but eventualy it all came back to me.

<center>sic sic sic</center>

spell check in progress

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