The Kosmic Karma of an Integral Poet

A Manifesto Plagiarizing and Expanding the Visions of Sri Chinmoy Kumar Ghose.
One
There are three types of poets: ordinary poets, great poets and seer-poets. Ordinary poets grow like mushrooms in infinite number. As most of us know, the great poets are few and far between and are also known as “born poets.” But as we will come to realize, the seer-poets are of the supreme heights. A seer is one who envisions the past, the present and the future… all at once.
True integral poets, by default, are required to be seer poets. Without an overhauling or evolving of our rationally-based languages by adding at the very least a series of numerical superscripts to nouns such as “God,” this dictum will be the umbrella for the next (and dare I say final) stage of poetry.
The integral poet must recognize perspectives, write about states and point to the moon. He or she must willingly compose koans for the good of the twenty-first century.
Not all seer poets must be, or are, integral. But as of today, all true integral poets must be, and are, seers.
Two
An integral poet has four very special names: yesterday's delight-seeker, today's delight-seer, tomorrow's delight-harbinger; and finally, of course, (my favorite) the Ground of all names: Infinity’s Delight.
At this point in history, one lucky enough to be an integral poet should never compromise (or even be asked to compromise). He or she is the manifestation of All things from the Experience of the carnal reptilian brainstem to high and higher vision-logic Illumination. If one compromises this interpretive structure, he or she instantly becomes the manifestation of a blind prophet. Which is (with all due respect) their right. But it can also be viewed as a travesty.
An integral poet (no matter the poetic forms he or she utilizes) MUST, first and foremost, currently be operating in the world-space of an integral consciousness.
In so doing he or she will no longer be completely satiated with the performative contradiction, “There is no such thing as truth.”
In so doing, he or she will no longer be completely satiated with the post-modern poet Charles Olson’s advice of jumping from perception to perception.
In so doing, he or she will no longer be completely satiated with the “first-tier” battle for dominance; but rather will embrace all previous modalities while being the North Star for evolution.
In so doing, he or she will no longer be completely satiated with form as an extension of content. The integral poet will see content as an extension of form.
In so doing, he or she will purposely evoke a trio of crucial realizations (usually in this order):
Number One: It is the poet and the poetry.
Number Two: We are the poet and the poetry.
And, finally, Number Three: I am the poet and the poetry.
The integral poet is interested in complex coherence and achieves this by nurturing a diversity of perspectives.
Which leads me to this:
Three
Integral poetry has five very special names:
Number 1: Aspiration-heart
Number 2: Inspiration-mind
Number 3: Confrontation-life
Number 4: Meditation-soul
And Number 5: Divination-Spirit
God wants to have a very, very special garden of Her own. She is asking Her integral poets to be the gardeners. She is also asking that integral poets create a garden as beautiful as possible and, at the same time, as inclusive as possible.
The integral poet will devotedly ask God if there is any esoteric purpose for the garden to be more than tolerant, more than relative, and more than beautiful.
God will respond to Her newly appointed poet-gardeners, "What is integral poetry, if not a description of My real Beauty? Do you not recall the English poet John Keats' immortal utterance: 'A thing of Beauty is a Joy forever'? Beauty and Infinity are inseparable. I want to reveal the Infinity that I am through the finite that I equally am. Therefore, I am asking you to make Me a garden of beauty unfathomable. And with a depth unsurpassable."
God will further say to Her integral poets, "My sons and daughters, once you have accomplished your task to My Satisfaction, I shall entrust you with another task. You will then be the supreme semioticians in My garden. Infinity's Beauty-lovers from the four corners of the globe shall visit and drink deeply while simultaneously realizing that they ARE the beauty of this infinite garden that all of us have created... together."
Four
Most poetry, since the turn of the 20th century, has been written under the mantra “Art for Art’s sake.” Although commendable, this mind-set has lead the world of poetry and art to a stagnant, and now unremarkable, pool of irony.
I offer a response in the form of a letter.
Dear postmodern and contemporary artists of the world:
To cut to the chase: You’re trying too hard.
Most of you seem to be dead set on becoming the next “mad genius.”
And it’s obvious.
And it’s tiring.
And, quite frankly, it’s now cliché.
When art becomes enamored with itself, it can become a form of masturbation.
And, at this point and time, most art and poetry accepted by the establishment is just playing with itself.
After nearly fifty years of little more than a series of tired translations, it’s high time for a group of integral artists to transcend and include the trendiness of self-deconstruction and call for (dare I say demand) the necessities of a global transformation.
May I be so bold as to offer a couple new mantras for the 21st century?
Here’s the first: Art for Spirit’s Sake.
Do you like it?
If so, I offer the second: Sanity is the new Crazy.
Nice ring to it, huh? SANITY is the new Crazy.
Shadow work, meditation, yoga, contemplation, prayer, authentic self inquiry.
I’ll say it again.
Sanity… is the new Crazy.
Here’s a sonnet from Suicide Dictionary written while under the spell of this mantra:
"Paradise is sleeping with jungles and stars,
It feels with two hands and a mind like your own;
It dives into Shadows and fuses with Scars,
Then centers the axis of Shadow to Bone.
These Luminous Pipers are silent but Loud,
Their song is concrete yet transparent to sight;
Content with non-dual even One is a crowd,
Yet structures are Perfect Eternal Delight.
This Portal is present and never will veer,
It’s moving with you as you’re reading this page;
No angels are winking or Rational jeers,
Just Beautiful Sanity living with change.
Nirvana is seeping through shapes made of ink,
These Statues were dead…
but then suddenly blink."
Although it may not appear so, I’m writing to you with the utmost compassion.
I keep hearing Ezra Pounds’ tortured scream from Canto CXVI: “I cannot make it cohere. I cannot make it cohere. I cannot make it cohere.” Which is, of course, the same plea from Eliot’s "Wasteland" as he sings his pains on the fragmented nature of the Good, the True and the Beautiful.
Postmodern artists of the world, I’m here to help. And I assure you there is now a way to make it cohere. Or at least come closer than we’ve been for a very long time.
Hope all is well.
Love,
Paul
Five
Ten personal statements.
1. Integral poetry I write with a technique of placing “the best words in the best order.”
2. Integral poetry I write with a technique of composing in the sequence of the musical phrase and, at times, in the sequence of the metronome.
3. Integral poetry I write to transcend the famous maxim, “No ideas but in things.”
4. Integral poetry I write to lighten your mind and enlighten your heart. It is shared between us so that you may lighten my mind and enlighten my heart. It is read to each of us lightening our hearts and enlightening our minds.
5. Integral poetry I write to replace your heart's sorrow with your soul's ecstasy. It is shared between us so that you may replace my heart’s sorrow with my soul’s ecstasy.
6. Integral poetry I write to transform your human mind-jungle into a divine heart-garden. It is read to each of us transforming our human mind-jungle into the Way of the Heart.
7. Integral poetry I write to fathom my own inner worlds and to scale my own higher worlds.
8. Integral poetry I write to see and feel Divinity's Beauty inside the heart of humanity.
9. Integral poetry I write to watch the hide-and-seek of my heart's tearing tears and my soul's blossoming smiles.
10. Integral poetry I write as a means of riding the wave of evolution.
Which leads us to this:
Six
The conclusion:
Mystical poetry, for the most part, has pointed to the Heart infinitely more than it preached to the mind.
To differentiate:
True integral poetry will point to the Heart AND the mind… while attaching to neither.
Image: "Recycled Poetry," by pupski on Flickr, used through a Creative Commons license.
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Comments
Thanks for the Meal...
http://alienviewgroup.blogspot.com/
I'm compelled, Sir, to submit myself as an aspirant to same!
Moreover, I appreciate your wonderful explication of it on two levels. First, as a cogent description of a first-rate likelihood; then as an external validation for the reader efficaciously making that aspiration! Please correct me if I got it completely wrong.
Finally, you seem to confirm a strong encouragement for me to continue an impassioned pursuit of this *calling progressiveness* — as deeply penetrating as it is decidedly penultimate, eh?
Your essay sure seemed "...The best words in the best order..." — like the preceding quote, its own example.
¥
Greetings
tear it up
Hee hee! I love it.
<p>Now tear it up.</p>
Ahoy!
Glad you enjoyed!
And I agree.
Consider it torn.
Paul Lonely www.suicidedictionary.com
Bravo!
paul_lonely_merryweather@hotmail.com
apples and pears,
Paul Lonely
<p>
www.suicidedictionary.com
Not at All
FlatLand?
perhaps?
request
An issue of direction
Reply
A question I have for the
Irony: the New Age Strawman
I have to say, I wouldn't be able to stomach a poetics incapable of irony. What I find most charming in individuals (as well as in poets) is the capacity to laugh at oneself, one's posturing, one's essential absurdity. I become especially skeptical when it is suggested that irony should be replaced by ideology ("non-dual," "Beautiful Sanity," etc.). The poem offered above, though pleasant in its iambic meanderings, strikes me as thinly veiled ideology (a combination of ideas from several spiritual traditions and a sprinkling of "Wilberism").
Often I've found that ideologues are those least able to appreciate irony. I think this is largely because irony undercuts and critiques ideology.
One last note: the blanket critique of poetry offered in this article strikes me as superficial. It makes the standard move to associate the "postmodern" with the "masturbatory" without defining "postmodernism" (so as to leave it in its vaguest and most all-encompassing form) or explaining what's wrong with masturbation (a bit of subterranean asceticism, there?). But the big point is this: one cannot unite the "poetry of the last century" or "fifty years" in any meaningful way -- at least not to dismiss it. This critique strikes me as having been written by someone not particularly familiar with contemporary poetry (or anything much beyond what's usually called "High Modernism").
As such, I find the critique superficial and the "new direction" preposterous. Forgive me for my honesty, but poetry means too much to me .
Re:opiate
Also, cj, I second Jennifer in both her points, namely that your thoughts are interesting and deserve a better venue than the comments section. If you set up a site for your work, let us know. But it is getting hard to follow the thoughts expressed here when they're distanced by lengths of creative work. (Not that any of this isn't creative or created -- our rational activity is often as important, no?)
Back Again...
Like you Opiate, poetry means too much to me...so in light of the last two comments I've decided to chime in again.
I mean no disrepect Opiate, but the comment, "I wouldn't be able to stomach a poetics incapable of irony" MAY show your embeddedness in the post-modern structure. And doesn't this need for irony qualify as your own form of ideology?
And just for the record, I in no way want to completely disregard irony. My book, Suicide Dictionary, is filled with it. In fact, calling this piece a "manifesto" still makes me laugh (at myself). The "real" manifesto is being written by Keith Martin-Smith. It will be published shortly. I encourage you to find and read it.
The poem you read in the manifesto :) was not meant to stand on its own. It is one of a series of 50 sonnets in the first chapter of my book nested in a series of "larger and larger" contexts. The title of the first chapter is "Shakespeares' Hazing."
Sorry I didn't define post-modernism. If you read my comment above, I wrote this for an event in LA. Before I "performed" there was a wonderful presentation by the people at www.integralcreatives.com. They prefaced my talk by giving what I deemed an acceptable definition of post-modernism. Thank you for pointing this out. I will add a preface to this piece. You make a great point.
I did not end my education with "High Modernism." I wouldn't call myself a "specialist"... but I consider myself informed about both post-modern and contemporary poetry.
To conclude, I sincerely believe a new wave of creativity in the arts is coming as more and more artists/poets evolve "into" an integral framework. As I've said before, this "manifesto" is my own artistic rendering of what I see coming. My book (get it at amazon...www.suicidedictionary.com) speaks volumes more than this manifesto. And so does Keith Martin-Smiths' essay. Below is a chart you may find interesting. And here are a few headers from Keith's paper:
A Brief History of Postmodernism
On the Death of Postmodernism
Difference in Deconstructive and Constructive Postmodernism
Postmodern Art: Why Irony is so Important
The Shadow of Postmodernism: Paradox, Flatland, and Narcissism
Beyond Postmodernism Integral Art Criticism Integral Art
Once again, I'm waiting for it to be published so I can spread the link.
Figure 1.1, Integralism In-Context
Sorry...the chart won't work here. Please send your email address to paul_lonely_merryweather@hotmail.com and I'll forward it to you.
In response to ColieCC...I won't reveal what the editors said about this piece. I will say that Pinchbeck writes a bit in 2012 about Wilber and Jean Gebser and the possiblities of the "integral." I think he may be seeing much further "up the spiral" than most of his readers can give him credit for. In fact, one of my friends is currently working on a paper that claims Pinchbeck could possibly be/become a wonderful bridge to a new level of consciousness (ie integral.) Is it possible Pinchbeck and his editorial crew see something you don't? I don't want to be condescending here. But like Opiate, I'm passionate about poetry/art. And feel this is the beginning of a truly important debate. Integral is here. And debates with the "post-modern" are inevitable. I understand if you decide to dismiss my piece as not "serious" enough. But may I please encourage you to look elsewhere...maybe to Michael Garfield, maybe to Ken Wilber's essays in The Eye of Spirit, maybe to Matt Dallman or Matt Rentschler; you may find their descriptions of integral art and poetry more to your taste.
ad interim,
Paul Lonely
www.suicidedictionary.com
Glad you're back, Paul...
Congratulations, Paul!
You write from your vision (using beauty as your standard), through your interpretation (using truth as your standard), into communication (using goodness as your standard)... and people misunderstand you (unless they're Bush supporters, then they "misunderestimate" you, LOL!).
"Being right too soon is socially unacceptable."
Robert A. Heinlein
Those who seem to misunderstand less ask more questions. Those who seem to misunderstand more make assertions.
Everyone approaches with their own unique multidimensional [emphasis+vision / de-emphasis+blindspots] psychographic distribution pattern in consciousness...
...and you try to clarify things, because you care...
You are providing BOTH;
1. a healthy example of a balanced consciousness for those intentionally biased towards dynamic interior growth and re-equilibration, and...
2. a target for those intentionally biased towards (their) static "truth" and their need to be "right" and intellectually / spiritually / poetically "superior".
...and BOTH are being received by the world.
That's the world, for you.
Keeping the Spiral Dynamics statistics on developmental levels of self-system center-of-gravity by population may support perspectival objectivity to the anecdotal data you are now in the process of accumulating.
To those who are BOTH cognitively and intentionally ready and open, you are helpful. As for the rest, I'm reminded of the colorful folk wisdom saying, "Don't try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time, and it irritates the pig." As an indicator that reveals confluence and verification, may I share awareness of the level of grammar and spelling I've seen here, among people who (supposedly?) deeply care about "poetry" (whatever that word means to them), or would that violate a "social contract" between "artists"?
Sorry, but objective truth is a double-edged sword; nourishing groundedness in one's interior, and bringing death to the ungrounded embeddedness we mistake for our selves.
Please forgive my homage to & hazing of Shakespeare;
"What Sukka M.C.'s we mortal MoFo's be."
About all that I can think of to add, that contributes to increasingly balanced and unattached expanding consciousness, is something my teacher said to me long ago, "Eliot, our place in this world is not to be understood, it is to understand."
So, allow me to BOTH acknowledge the non-duality of meaning and meaninglessness, AND cheer you on in our shared evolutionary adventure towards more, deeper and higher truth, beauty and goodness.
"May we all always continue to evolve in all ways"
Love you bro, keep up the good work, knowing that the result will be what it is... (which reminds me of Krishnamurti addressing his audience, saying "If even ONE among you gets this, it will have been worth it.")
Once again, hope for the best and prepare for the worst, eh? And, of course, keep writing.
Eliot
integralcreatives.com
Dyslexic Demotic
I confuse my spellinges sometimes alas, (at herte icham an Elizabethan rebel weened on Shakspere) but also have of late (this very moone) had my work noted indeed plac'd favourably in 2oo mighty UK poetry journals - though my submission notes are indede invariable ungrammatical I must confess.
Develope your authentic howl.
To Whom It May Concern:
http://www.integralworld.net/index.html?helfrich.html
Paul Lonely
www.suicidedictionary.com
But what am I
Am I great ordinary a victim like you of this thing called the poet's fate?
Roses are red violets are blue
anyone that starts with those lines
has to end it
What child is not great
that has mumbled those lines
in this even the ordinary see
what they truly believe poets are we... all
laying are words down
as if they can change the world
and they can... and they do
but what is greater the ordinary mind
the seer
or the blunder of the blind
Who really can see through time...
The curse of the poet
is that his words change poses
ring around the roses... remember that
And in the end
He don't want to think no more
lay it down... lay it down...
watch the chips fall
Not to think no more
What am I Paul
What am I
Great ordinary a seer
Or all three combined
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BHD2UYLfbI
What am I?
Today is part of forever.
Crap Poetry Manifesto
Crap poetry is what happens to good poetry after you eat it and you're left with nothing but a sack of appealing gelatinous goop swelling in a storm of indecision. There's no place for conclusion, destination, evolution. Just beginnings of turds, partially formed words, badly drawn birds, half-eaten curds, and YOU. What is the redeeming value of the dying screams of an animal except to inspire guilt and make children cry? The Dadaists abandoned reason. We abandon hygiene. Farts for forever!
The world is devolving into the raw sewage slush of a psychological maelstrom. Classicism is the faggy flower of culture, fragrant formalism for fidgety fags. Decadence is the dykish fruit of culture, faggier still and addicted to painkillers. Crap is what's left of the fruit of culture after all the nutrition has been sucked out of it and it's been ejected out the anus. If money is the sexuality of the dead and your hair is a tunnel into the past then we have more poetry up our asses than exists in the entire Puniverse. We are the mighty poetic proctologists, the conquistadors of the mighty brown-out of civilization. As crap poets, our biggest job is to not be watching television. As long as we're not watching television, we're winning. We want to poison our own minds, thank you very much. Because poetry is the least important thing, it's the most important thing. Like the Taoists say, "Know the big, but stick to the small." Similarly, "Know talent, but stick to the crap."
Cough. Catastrophe. Christ-Consciousness. Retards. Raunchiness. Rage. Apathy. Androgynes. Astroglide. Prickle. Prosthetic. Pucker up!
To say that a poem stinks is to make the synesthetic leap from words on paper to a sensual experience. In crap poetry there's no such thing as writer's block. Our motto is "Just push through." There's nowhere left except failure. Our only regret is our failure to destroy all our talent.
Why wheedle the approval from some fucking intellectual asshole? We're the shit!
For more Crap Poetry, visit: http://www.geocities.com/brasstackspress/crappoetry.html