Poems of Making Poems of Death

This book is a personal disclosure. In which I can tell, for the first time, those intensely intimate experiences with Kundalini that both deconstructed my personality and transformed it. The content of the book may look like poetry but in fact is the residue of a "poesis," a making. These word forms are virtually unedited since the time I wrote them down during a long period of ecstatic vision. Following this "ekstasis," I began the arduous task of reconnecting to the community. Many years of hardship followed. In 2011, another storm hit It began as a series of dreadful dreams with images of my own death, accompanied by extreme symptoms in my body, involving unendurable heat and nerve pain.There was nothing I could do to ease the nerve pain or diminish the heat. These, and other nightmarish dreams continued. Their focus on the ineluctable body, and death, was frightening and I descended into a living hell. Then, at the nadir, I cried out. "Something else" was attempting to speak from within the agony of the body. I struggled to say it. Several poems came forth, my poems of death. They, too, are unedited. They too are a making, but they speak the body's experience of itself, of its knowledge of its own mortality.