PURPLE PROSE
WRITINGS AND POETRY by
ANNA STANDING DEER
Elle et Moi
Elle could not relate to Malrauxian constructs although she is an incomplete construct of Malraux herself.
So here I am today, ink dripping upon paper, trying to explain once more to Elle, the best I can, What it is to be a construct of Malraux. There are the stars, All of us being stars, of course that dance and dazzle... and form a profusion of themselves;
These stars, at intervals of 2,4,6 plus ad infinitum intervals are thrust to earth or rather, flung upon Earth Mother
to become something by which we
form ourselves over and over and over again.
Now, Elle is really confused, triply confused but anyway...
it was about this time last year, when once again, I erupted into what I felt must be...
in the final analysis a new star. There, I lost sight of my dear friend, Malraux, and wanted nothing new added to the construct of self.
(All this1 I tried to explain to Elle to no avail)
On the contrary, I desired an absence of the prime construct, "Anna", I wanted to make sure:
there would be no more, dancing
singing
talking
handwaving
no "Anna"
I knew it all
and it all had added up
to the final 'willed' constructin the 1st September listed of my life. It had all be done.
of zero additional tolerance,
for I had fought the 'valiant fight'
and lived 'the good cause' while here.
Indeed, in this malruaxian self-creation
it had been done,
I knew to burn then.
My blankets had been folded; his moccasins removed from beneath
my bed
And I had proceeded to die. No I died.
And charged myself of
the Atlan/Promethean type duties of going forward into the fire room of my mind (the part
that I did not create, of course)
Flinging, flinging, flying at random, I flung my last star, the "Anna" star forward
AND
it being satiated, with mind losings. Had
screamed, puttered, and screamed some more
"I am who I am,here my friend
dead of last September's dribblings,"
Elle, Here I am too, a construct of beauty
yes, death is too a construct of beauty as my chemistry changes
to create anew; a stranger one.
Anna
Some say they have seen the rain. |
|
My Brother Billie Not many people knew him. Surely, not the world. He wasn't even out of his teens the day it happened. Yet, he had plans. Many of us have plans. Would his have been realized anymore than the next person's. I don't know. Now, no one will ever know. However, there's an A sharp piercing the air and a a G cleft and I'm gonna attempt to sing a song of William. Billie, you were the younger brother I never The brother which the Creator brought my way And you were youthful and impressionable and you thought my antics were hilarious and when they weren't funny you loved me just the same as I loved you Billie, you*re a high note you're a low note you*re the note in between You're that every note of singers and drumming drummers You're the piano intones that laugh and cry and make merry love to the listening crowd William, you weren't ordinary enen though you didn't ever know it. You were a bit extradinary in a quiet way (unlike your sister) in a soothing way. Never a cruel word. Never a sharp tongue you could have drummed any song all the way to the Sky People the way you drummed my heart at the mere thought of you
You belonged to that ANY person -anna |
NO WORD No one told me how bravely you climbed the stairs to our room each night, without me there No one told me that your climbing the stairs was equivalent to my longest walk on the tier (It was singleminded; something that had to be done) No one told me how you carried me in your pocket for protection each day as you exited the house, and if ever you lost sight of me in your pocket, there I was, my picture, on the key chain driving the car Nor was I told how you'd told bedtime stories to our dog, Resistance, (who alone remains in the house with you) Stories of "daddy this" and "daddy that" and "Resist, give me a kiss to send to daddy" and she'd comply. No one told me what dress you'd wear that day; why you colored your hair; nor why you refused to give up our car long beyond repair No one told me I'd be everywhere within your sight, as reachable to you as I am to myself No one told me that you needed it this way, as I needed to see my reflection upon the walk to know that I was still existent on Mother Earth. No, no one told me No one said a word No one EVEN whispered it No on told me if I took away me, I'd take away you. No one told me that I'd ever be needed and wanted and valued so much with me just being me; No one told me that half of you was always void without me and yet- I sent you on to re-enter the world alone And when you stumbled and fell I felt something deep within akin to a yell, but no one told me that it was you. -anna- |
Sacred - Dedicated to Carolyn Markus |
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