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Echo and Narcissus
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OUR BEST STUFF
Our best stuff
is autobiographical
and the reader has to come
at least halfway to the poet
to meet the notion lying in wait
somewhere between them.
He who demands everything at once
wants fast fluff
requiring little chewing,
less digestion,
leaving so little nourishment
he'd better have drunk the lemon-flavoured water
out of the finger bowl;
or spooned the mint jelly into his mouth
without touching the rack of lamb;
or chug-a-lugged his beer
after tossing back his cabernet.
Thoughts fly;
fingers can't keep up with them on this keyboard, nor can the eye keep up with them on this page.
MY EAR LEANS
My ear leans into the echo
of my own voice
like Narcissus leaned over
his reflection in the pond;
as my eye scans these reflections
on my screen's mirror,
I see that my best work
is the stuff of my self.
The reader must come at least halfway
to where I lie in wait
somewhere between us,
and if the reader demands all at once,
wanting fast fluff
that requires little chewing,
less digestion,
leaving little nourishment,
he'd better have drunk the water
with the squeeze of lemon in it
out of the finger bowl;
or spooned up the mint jelly
without touching the rack of lamb,
thinking to try the dessert first;
or quaffed the cabernet
after the the beer'd been drunk.
These thoughts fly so fast
these fingers can't catch up to them
on this keyboard.
These eyes can't keep up with them
on this page.
Here! Let me read this aloud!
See if I can be met half way!
Dean Morrison McKenzie (c) 2003
MY EAR LEANS
My ear leans into my own echo
as a narcissus leans over
its own reflection;
I scan this page
to gather the reflection
of my words
and I see that this biography
requires the reader
to come part way to the poem so that the truth that lies somewhere between can be illuminated.
If all is demanded at once,
if the reader wishes for fast fluff
that requires little chewing,
less digestion,
it'll leave so little nourishment
he'd have been better off drinking the lemon-water out of his finger bowl;
or spooned up the mint jelly
without tasting the rack of lamb;
or quaffed the cabernet with the beer.
These thoughts fly so fast
my fingers can't keep up with them
on this typewriter.
My eyes can't keep up with them on this screen.
I read this poem alone now,
trying to meet it half way.
I read this poem to you now:
Here! Meet it half way!
Little
My ear bends toward my voice's echo
just as Narcissus leaned over his reflection
Less
My ear, the echo of my voice;
Narcissus, his reflection.
Lesser
My ear, my voice's echo;
Narcissus, his reflection.
Least
My voice's echo;
Narcissus' reflection.
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Web Design by Douglas Elves. Water reflection photograph by Linda Jennings.
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Dean Morrison McKenzie  McKenzie's a kid from the village; it shows in his themes. His poetry, fiction, music, films and essays are laden with imagery gathered from the world that surrounds small prairie towns. So far he has co-authored two or three chapbooks, read his stuff on public radio and has had his voice used to record commercials and training films. McKenzie's first CD, "Prairie Hejira" was published in 2001 and on November 23rd, 2003, at The Yardbird Suite, he and the band released "The Silver Apples of the Moon". He also wrote the script for "Skipping Stone" -- the AMPIA-award winning film produced by Frame 30, and recently Michael Hamm screened McKenzie's "Night Benz", another short film based on the prose/poem included in this chap book. It was awarded a Silver Medal at the Houston International Festival of Independent Films in the category Jazz/New Age/Spoken Word. When asked about life as a retired English teacher, he refers to it as a bus man's Holiday. "I've been editing the work of others all my life; now I'm smoothing out my own roughnesses." Watch for his next chapbook, "The McKenzie Chronicles" and "The Jazz Poet" CD is just around the corner along with a loosely connected series of short stories about the "Urbaniginals". McKenzie is also working with MaxMedia to produce some poetry/art/music videos with the collaboration of Alberta post-modern impressionist Wayne Schneider. Wayne's paintings create moody graphics that reflect some of the darker aspects of McKenzie's themes; the corollary: McKenzie's poems reflect Wayne's angst. Andrew Glover's synthesized keyboards will accompany "His Recurring Night Terrors" in the performance poems. The submissions in this electronic chapbook include pieces that you may have read, heard or seen elsewhere, but they were nearly all published on this web site or in the Stroll Archives before they made their way into recordings, public performances, hard copies or film scripts.
POEMS
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