Writing, Books, Painting, Politics, Neuroplasticity
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Private Gravity: A Poem

 I used to think not in pictures (as I do when thinking about how to paint something:  actually, thinking through the process of how-to-paint-those mountains, people, clouds, etc.) nor, exactly, in words.  Instead, I thought in lines of poetry.  They approached me whole, as if from a distance, as if already composed.  Therefore, I concluded (being at that time a philosophy major) that my poems emerged from the Forms, as in Platonic.  When I began to write short stories and novels, I soon realized that they did NOT come from the Forms!

I looked for a poem I wrote years ago about that particular process, and could not find it.  Instead, here is a poem I published in Asimov’s (one of the best-paying markets for poetry, anywhere) years ago:


     Private Gravity

 

Linked,

we circle

one another.

 

Triggered 

by internally generated forces

our gravity grows strong

and turns to time:

 

loose memories pressed together

become weight

 

which fuels this swing of spheres

through empty space. Thoughts

 

long trapped by coldsleep

are roused by unavoidable programs.

 

Fueled by new proximity 

they flare to life inside us 

and we circle, unable to halt,

pulled by private gravity

 

into the heart 

of singularity.

 

–Kathleen Ann Goonan

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