The Receptive
September 19, 2006
Throw those pennies, listen for some wisdom coiled
in a hexcode to rattle up my spine, broken lines
piling, piling the answer in the gap like every
other lesson learned between now and now: cupped
hands tossing coins away to beg for maps, for old
patterns’ trail-marks from oracle to writers to me.
Yes these hands have been flung open and open ‘til
I swing on what hinges like an old screen door:
the glyph tossed the one that slams shut only to
bounce and judder wide again yielding six broken
lines, a stuck window jimmied loose, scrapes parsed,
untangled, ghost to texts to my hashed scrawl.
by Lori Witzel of Chatoyance
Categories: Education
Lori Witzel
qarrtsiluni 
Goddamn, what a great poem. Thank you.
Captures the I Ching thing exactly! I have read this poem 6 times now. I keep coming back to this poem.
Hi Dale and Fred! Yep, I do love that old dog-eared Ghost, and was tickled that the Education topic gave me cause to write this. Glad you like.
This is gorgeous. The last line in particular knocks my socks clean off.
and I especially like that it’s in two stanzas of six lines each :-)
This poem is itself a little pile of glyphic ghosts, thrown, parsed and untangled into six lines of scrawl… beautiful!
And MB is the Magic Hexcode 6th Comment! (Thanks, BTW, MB.)
I feel a prize of some kind is in order…hhhmmmm. Will need to think what to do.
Dale…yes, you caught me counting!
I couldn’t catch it in six…so thought more was, er, more.