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"albertan" poems
I've always been in place, in situ Maybe (just maybe) ... I'm sui generis? When my lifeline intersected with spacetime on this continuum I found myself moving toward a collision course with duality and non-duality Moving towards a zero-point What are we talking about? Nothing (Rafelski & Muller, 1985) As a geographer, the mimetic expression was dualistic As one plane flowed through another; as fiat lux flowed through Medicine Rock I found wisdom I further explored the duality @ this place (also known as University of Lethbridge) The U of L is an interesting duck It walks like an Albertan university It talks like an Albertan university But one of these things is certainly not like the other The U of L got its chops as a house of learning for the Liberal Arts Follow those roots and you'll see conduits to another spacetime known as UCBerkley U of L memetics share material memories from the birth of the Free Speech Movement (1964) And as Arthur Erickson drafted up his plans for Canada's centennial gift to the Province of Alberta, I'm sure he would have been partaking in the pleasures of this particular spacetime I'm sure at the very least that he was listening to Hendrix wax on about Castles As Erickson designed this modernistic monolith called University Hall There were influences such as Arthur C. Clarke and his novel 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) He was certainly knowledgeable of the Blackfoot stories of the Old Man And of course as an architect he would be versed in gravity and how built structures on a slope tend to creep toward base-level Strange but true, Erickson's first degree was in foreign languages So what I see is Canada's premier architect wrote a poem for us in 1968 In a foreign language And that poem would be expressed over the next forty to fifty years Some of those primary poetic elements were: Berkley, California Hippie Movement Creep (or gravity) Base level Blackfoot creation stories of the Old Man Jimi Hendrix poetry and his savage musical genius "and so castle's made of sand melt into the sea, eventually." So let's reinterpret that line to be more U of L centric (through my glossy apertures) "and so monolith's made by man melt back into god eventually." ........ ....... ...... ..... ..... .... ... .. . zero~point . .. ... .... ..... ...... ....... ........
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
aaronmullin-fb
Towards an Indigenous Science
I've always been in place, in situ Maybe (just maybe) ... I'm sui generis? When my lifeline intersected with spacetime on this continuum I found myself moving toward a collision course with duality and non-duality Moving towards a zero-point What are we talking about? Nothing (Rafelski & Muller, 1985) As a geographer, the mimetic expression was dualistic As one plane flowed through another; as fiat lux flowed through Medicine Rock I found wisdom I further explored the duality @ this place (also known as University of Lethbridge) The U of L is an interesting duck It walks like an Albertan university It talks like an Albertan university But one of these things is certainly not like the other The U of L got its chops as a house of learning for the Liberal Arts Follow those roots and you'll see conduits to another spacetime known as UCBerkley U of L memetics share material memories from the birth of the Free Speech Movement (1964) And as Arthur Erickson drafted up his plans for Canada's centennial gift to the Province of Alberta, I'm sure he would have been partaking in the pleasures of this particular spacetime I'm sure at the very least that he was listening to Hendrix wax on about Castles As Erickson designed this modernistic monolith called University Hall There were influences such as Arthur C. Clarke and his novel 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) He was certainly knowledgeable of the Blackfoot stories of the Old Man And of course as an architect he would be versed in gravity and how built structures on a slope tend to creep toward base-level Strange but true, Erickson's first degree was in foreign languages So what I see is Canada's premier architect wrote a poem for us in 1968 In a foreign language And that poem would be expressed over the next forty to fifty years Some of those primary poetic elements were: Berkley, California Hippie Movement Creep (or gravity) Base level Blackfoot creation stories of the Old Man Jimi Hendrix poetry and his savage musical genius "and so castle's made of sand melt into the sea, eventually." So let's reinterpret that line to be more U of L centric (through my glossy apertures) "and so monolith's made by man melt back into god eventually." ........ ....... ...... ..... ..... .... ... .. . zero~point . .. ... .... ..... ...... ....... ........
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The French language to you, was little more than an inheritance It was the promise between mother and daughter that a grandchild ought to know the language they used In Bonnyville, they occupy the church, the Sobeys, the liquor store with that butchered accent The hybrid between Quebecois French and rural Albertan English - ugly, and indecisive You don’t live in Bonnyville, where the French roam free The French in Edmonton feels lost, almost unknown Poorly funded buildings house these Franco-albertans - children with the same inheritance as you Immersion becomes a ***** word, worthy of contempt and disgust All the French kids know each other, forced to grow up together while being deprived of options They all go to the same university - the small francophone campus which stands unimpressive in the only neighbourhood in Edmonton where stop signs say ‘arrêt’ Oil Country, home for the right and prosperous, they don’t like you You, you’re Francophone - Stuck up, snobby, pretentious... Besides, there are no such things as Franco-albertans. What could you be other than an invented term by some lost souls? You aren’t French enough - Alberta is an English speaking province. The time you went to France, someone asked if you were French-Canadian Before you could reply, your friends spun your story - something believable, commendable... your parents, lived in Montreal, and moved to Alberta with their wholly French children Your father grew up in Edmonton, memorizing the parks and malls by name while your mother lived on a dairy farm, living in french - the ugly acadienesque french. But, to everyone around you, it’s much more believable that you are a stranger to this province. Maybe you are.
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Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 12:38 PM UTC
jmencalisse
Frenchy in Oil Country
The French language to you, was little more than an inheritance It was the promise between mother and daughter that a grandchild ought to know the language they used In Bonnyville, they occupy the church, the Sobeys, the liquor store with that butchered accent The hybrid between Quebecois French and rural Albertan English - ugly, and indecisive You don’t live in Bonnyville, where the French roam free The French in Edmonton feels lost, almost unknown Poorly funded buildings house these Franco-albertans - children with the same inheritance as you Immersion becomes a ***** word, worthy of contempt and disgust All the French kids know each other, forced to grow up together while being deprived of options They all go to the same university - the small francophone campus which stands unimpressive in the only neighbourhood in Edmonton where stop signs say ‘arrêt’ Oil Country, home for the right and prosperous, they don’t like you You, you’re Francophone - Stuck up, snobby, pretentious... Besides, there are no such things as Franco-albertans. What could you be other than an invented term by some lost souls? You aren’t French enough - Alberta is an English speaking province. The time you went to France, someone asked if you were French-Canadian Before you could reply, your friends spun your story - something believable, commendable... your parents, lived in Montreal, and moved to Alberta with their wholly French children Your father grew up in Edmonton, memorizing the parks and malls by name while your mother lived on a dairy farm, living in french - the ugly acadienesque french. But, to everyone around you, it’s much more believable that you are a stranger to this province. Maybe you are.
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