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Diatribal Writes of Passage in a World of Wintertextuality: Poems on Language, Media, and Life (but not as we know it)
Diatribal Writes of Passage in a World of Wintertextuality: Poems on Language, Media, and Life (but not as we know it)
Diatribal Writes of Passage in a World of Wintertextuality: Poems on Language, Media, and Life (but not as we know it)
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Diatribal Writes of Passage in a World of Wintertextuality: Poems on Language, Media, and Life (but not as we know it)

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The second poetry collection by Lance Strate, this volume brings together an eclectic mix of poems that address the themes of language, communication, media, technology, and poetry itself, etc.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 30, 2020
ISBN9781970164039
Diatribal Writes of Passage in a World of Wintertextuality: Poems on Language, Media, and Life (but not as we know it)
Author

Lance Strate

Lance Strate is professor of communication and media studies, and a past president of the Media Ecology Association. He is the author of seven books, including Amazing Ourselves to Death: Neil Postman’s Brave New World Revisited (Peter Lang, 2014), Media Ecology: An Approach to Understanding the Human Condition (Peter Lang, 2017) and the poetry collection, Thunder at Darwin Station (NeoPoiesis, 2014).

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    Book preview

    Diatribal Writes of Passage in a World of Wintertextuality - Lance Strate

    up in smoke

    these pages caught fire

    these words were consumed

    only ashes were left of them

    they disappeared for all time

    no one will ever read

    what was written here

    that's the way it goes sometimes

    we struggle in vain

    mystery

    I recall when I was very young

    my parents took me to the movies

    with them

    and I saw those giant faces

    on the screen

    and I saw their lips move

    and I heard the words they spoke

    familiar sounds

    I could almost sense their meaning

    almost

    almost

    almost

    but no

    I couldn't

    understand

    what

    they were

    saying

    adult talk was a foreign language to me

    I dozed off

    over half a century later

    it's still a mystery

    to me

    syntagm

    a detail of the moment

    a seemingly trivial object

    connected to a natural or architectural setting

    intensifying vision, hearing

    smell, taste or touch

    leading to a fading but still vivid recollection

    a memory of a man, woman, or child

    someone of some significance

    once present now absent

    returning in the form of thought

    conversation

    observation

    motivating a metaphor

    putting in motion new meanings

    framing the elements so that the parts hang together in a novel

    arrangement

    introducing a theory or hypothesis

    about the nature of our collective existence

    reality

    biology

    spirituality

    leading to an emotion

    deeply feltprofoundly expressed

    coupled with a peculiar and unforgettable sense perception

    linked to the time remembered

    linked to the lingering aftereffects, the residue that remains

    linked to the experience of the now

    linked to the act of composition

    linked to the wry conclusion

    let x=y

    let y=z

    let it go!

    you

    I wrote this poem for you

    for you, and only for you

    others may read it

    but it was not written for their eyes

    others may mouth the words

    but they were meant for your lips alone

    others may be listening in

    as I whisper these lines into your ears

    but I am saying them only to you

    others may think that they are the one

    that I am speaking to

    let them think what they will

    they are not the one

    it is you, and only you

    and you may question

    whether it is really you

    and not someone else

    but know, and know well and sure

    it is you

    you are the one

    you are the only one

    you

    and you may wonder how it is

    that I have singled you out

    why you are the chosen one

    when all along you thought you were

    just a lonely face in the crowd

    safe and comfortable in your anonymity

    hiding in the plain sight

    of your page or screen?

    but deep down, you know

    you know you are the one

    you know why you are the one

    why you are special

    you know

    and you know that if you were to ask me

    am I the one?

    is it really me?

    I would not be able to answer you

    it's just not possible

    under the circumstances

    maybe someday…

    but for the time being

    you will just have to trust me

    and accept that it is you

    and that only you

    and I

    know the truth

    that we cannot speak of it

    that it shall remain our silent secret

    that it is you

    you are the one

    you are the only one

    you

    the poet

    The poet

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