PRECESSION OF A DAY: THE WORLD OF MARY NOHL
MARIELLE ALLSCHWANG & THE VISITATIONS
Lash of the Lake
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind
That co-conceives and believes in its manifestations
Are we alone when we’re alone?
The ground is chanting beneath the trees
Crown of the shore
Lash of the lake
The asylum of shells
That plate the skull of the planet’s core beneath the roar
All conspiring to become
Everything they cannot be alone
Mary knows their desire
Her devotion to their will
Shall never tire
In the great well of dreams
Awaits the inner life of all that comes to be
Trembling like stars
Seen at the brink of bearing
Fear It
Fear it, it calls you
You’re its servant for life
It’s always singing, sacred ringing
Never stop
It began before you were born
Beyond your body
Transmissions while dreaming
Patiently receiving
(Receiving)
In reverie!
Fruit rots down, seed sprouts up
It began before you
Fear it, it calls you
You’re its servant for life
Built to Bloom
Built to bloom, even in the winter,
Staring out at the deepest love forever.
They are one with the light--
If they’re wicked, then I’m wicked, too.
Given gold in place of my mother--
Crushed it down to sand at the water.
It will come back to me
In forms that I can’t yet see.
I leap and creak with the weather.
There is not a storm I won’t remember.
My eggshells hang
Like swollen glowing rain.
Forget everything you know about Eden.
Draw the first garden from your mind.
Pull every rib
Like each one is a secret name.
Precession Aria
Three faces to the sun
Become the sun
One face gazing down
Into the open palm
In her lunar lap,
Passive hand,
Knowledge preceding from nature,
Constant invisible procession
Turned by hands
And given back
To the girl
On the bench
With three minds
Open, like sunflowers
In light
Engineer
I’m an engineer!
I’m like a god!
Thirteen is power!
Woman-child,
Death card.
They stated in the press
How I’d rise to victory,
Twenty-six boys
Inferior to me
My brother ruled the water
But I ruled the wind
My plane could soar!
Fly without a sound!
Like a nocturnal cackler,
Spectral harbinger,
Floating carriage.
These girl hands
Made a perfect treasure--
Meticulously measured--
With balsa and glue.
It collapsed in the hands of a man
Right before it flew.
FULL FATHOM
Full fathom five thy brother lies
They won’t let you discover
Even when your mother sings
Or when they sing of mother
Viking cradle brings him home
Sunken, quiet, and alone
Reborn below the liquid veil
A dark sea floor dead fish
Max peeled away its silver tail
A sacrifice, A final wish
Fin reclaimed now at his waist,
Maximilian glides with grace.
The greatest fear to little Max
Was struck and turned like a vane
Ghost retreated from his heart
Danny ate his memory’s pain
When he submerged his strangeness,
He awoke insatiable!
The lake when you enter pulls
As shrouding dream about you
Hidden with heightened sight full
Beauty, spectres, treasures, blue.
What did Danny see in those
bitter , plunging, ocean groves?
Maximilian leapt,
Paint can on his head,
Into his greatest fear!
the sounds of fire
the sounds of fire speak
awake and you will see
I’m burning on your lawn
the sounds of fire speak
good morning, come and see
I’ve washed ashore now I've burnt away
the sounds of fire spoke
I'm glad that you've awoke
Now watch me turn from wood to bird to sky
ROAM
I hear the wind
Whistling air
A siren call
To island lair
Come closer in
Be my art, too
Like Marielle
Singing to you.
I point to my mind
My love’s infinite store
I point to my mind
My ocean and my oar
Fire in my head
Skeleton exposed
Invisible skin
Traveling within
I’ve been to Pompeii
Sailed to West Indies
Cuba Belgium Germany
Jamaica Haiti
I exhaust my eyes
I exhaust my eyes
I point to my mind
I point to my mind…
Temple of the Moon
Hanga Roa
Ahu Tongariki
Colorado River
Pakistan Peru
Mountains Lakes and Ruins
ROAM
ROAM
Skip the airstrip to the sunset
Oh girl dancing down those dirty and dusty trails
Around the world, the trip begins...*
(*inspired by the B-52’s “Roam” from COSMIC THING)
newsletter
Newsletter, black jetty machine
Our old Chi Omega hoots,
Broadcasting inward
To wonder.
A fond account of Washington teeth
Postcards of hours and space
Almost disappeared
Loving without measure
Boo!
From some owl behind my trees--
Salutations beach, pebbles, cement,
Good old friends! Good new friends!
Every day shakes me.
Even I do departure.
A fond account of Washington teeth,
A dog, a squirrel,
Look--its tail furling,
Almost disappeared.
Write spelled lines and representatives.
Still my thoughts to mimeographed greetings,
Postcards about hours and space
And here,
Loving without measure,
Day.
turning
Sometimes I think I’ve made my mark
For now.
Before the fire dims to dust:
An ignition in the heart,
A spark in the mind,
A desire to climb
From the ashes of the last
Time.
I had string bean limbs when I found out
That time was relative
To a space which might be infinite
And to a constant turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning
When souls leave their pilgrim homes
Will they find themselves
At this one?
Does my work here leave a trace
Invisible to (and unbound by) the living?
Have to dive to rise and see
Outside of time,
And inside the secret that sends us turning.
Turning, turning, turning, turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning
Turning, turning, turning, turning