“In McClure’s poems, the shapes are abstractions like DNA (statement of relation and in some poems one-word centered lines on a page) which as a language can’t ever be the same as the object (such as ‘black lily’). Yet he breaks down a distinction between text as object and the phenomenal object of ‘black lilies’ (words), and physical sensation (of the ‘speaker’ or reader of these words)…
He transposes (enacts) the (comic book bubble) language of his poetry as theater; it is a mode of theater in both his poetry and his plays – in both, the distinction betweent he surface and intuititve apprehension is broken down – or between that which is ‘visual’ and (that as) language.” — Leslie Scalapino
“In his preface to this book (O Books, 2002), McClure described its contents as “the energy of consciousness moving vertically on a scroll.” PLUM STONES is the continuation of a journey which began with the 2000 release, TOUCHING THE EDGE. At once, these poems move us into uncharted waters: The poet alone moving through time and the timeless mind, stepping slowly now, aware of the craters just beyond the hissing tongues of water, aware of the snakes and goblins, the poet alone moving through himself into the sacred and holy place of no thought — that soft and peaceful place where there is no thought and no preoccupation with the Self. No ego. No eyes. Only spirit. Ghostly peace. And simply content now to be.” —John Aiello, in the August 2003 issue of The Electric Review
Read Jack Foley’s review of PLUM STONES at The Alsop Review.
Michael McClure is “a poet of the sensorium coursing in the realms of consciousness, a scholar of the visionary, a professor of beauty, a flashpoint at the intersection of the spiritual and the real.” — Lewis Mac Adams in L.A. Weekly
PLUM STONES: CARTOONS OF NO HEAVEN (PART TWO)
FOG. FOG AROUND RAINBOWS
RAINBOW IN CLEAR LIGHT
HORSE HEADS LIKE EAGLES.
EAGLES LIKE HORSE HEADS
Z
O
O
M
I
N
G
through
STORMS.
BIG DROPS SPLASHING
ON THE REDWOOD DECK RAIL.
INNER AND OUTER REALM MATED
IN SIZELESSNESS
Rainbows pouring in water falls
WATER FALLS GURGLING IN STREAMS
OF CHILDHOOD.
COMPASSION SWIRLING THROUGH MERCY
BIRTH
GOES
OUT
WITH
A
LIGHT BULB
Always here
in continuous practice:
a brown moth resting on old lace,
and a can of peaches
in tomorrow’s firelight
PLUM
Somewhere a plum is ripe.
Swirling like horse heads
in rainbows.
Purple plum.
Green plum
Blue-black edging through white
with hands in prayer.
O
R
D
I
N
A
R
Y
as palm
pressed to palm
in
a
mudra.
BOWING
IN BLESSING
after all
these
years.
A PLUM IS RIPE.
COLD HARD GOLD-BROWN PEARS
in the rain
by the eaves
alert with bare
branches
like kitten fur and deer eyes
plain as a skid mark.
ORDINARY,
ORDINARY AS BOWING
IN BLESSING.
Z
O
O
M
I
N
G
through
STORMS.
EAGLES LIKE HORSE HEADS.
HORSE HEADS LIKE EAGLES.
FOG. FOG AROUND RAINBOWS
like kitten fur and deer eyes
plain as skid marks.
ORDINARY
ORDINARY AS BOWING
IN BLESSING.
O
R
D
I
N
A
R
Y
as palm
pressed to palm
in
a
mudra
Publisher: O Books
Year: 2002
ISBN: 9781882022441