I am a mute poet. I am very much aware that I have few if any formal writing sensibilities. Yet I am perceptive and articulate and feel that it is vital to my existence that I have a voice. There are two media in which I believe my voice is best protected from corruption. The written word is the first, the second is the compiled word. I write for people in either case and sometimes break rules of formality which have no bearing in my view upon the final effect. At times this is purposely done, but most often it is my intuition that guides me to a new way of knowing.mbowen, 9213.0327.1203
I often write passively in multiple identities and concurrent processes. I mix metaphors and facts in prosody. If this has been done to great artistic effect by others before me, I am not directly aware of it nor does it interest me significantly to discipline myself towards or against that aesthetic. That is a privilege of directing interpretation. At this time I am painting consciousness, my own and that of my environment, but I am no particular didact. Even so I hope my mix, the value of which is its uniqueness and provocation, causes enough static upon its consideration to move men and women to see things which may have been hidden from view. At it's best, when the reader allows these considerations to appropriate their mind for the moment in reading, it will do enough to make them beleive they are me and I them. In this, I submit my written words with the same expectations as I submit my compiled words. The passivity is for the sake of safe crashes.
I may have no luxury in the fullness of time to have my work studied in depth. This is a painful anonymity and this pain is the leaven of ordinary existence. I share with my contemporaries the extraordinarily difficult burden of inheriting a soul whose expression is manifest in the interpretation of that subset of human qualities of those whose social expectation is limited by dissonance. The contributing factors to this dissonance and the effects of it are my primary interest. I write about them as I perceive them, spontaneously and directly and in the variety of circumstances which mark me.
The transcendence I seek is ordinary. By virtue of my selected media, the currency and permanence of which are well established in my country, I may live on in minds. My lesson is simple: I hope. It gathers all modes of thinking that I can consider and tries for alchemy out of which may come a new way of knowing.