“Galileo looked into the night / and learned the truth was an old lie /
And he sighed, knowing his fate: / If I write that again Someone will
tell the Vatican” – Irene Leila Allison
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is
the source of all true art and science.” – Albert Einstein
(Wonderful images provided by The Drifter)
INTRO NOTE, or Here We Go Again:
From The Drifter: The idea for this essay came as a flash of inspiration like a lightbulb going on in a tired brain, while driving around (drifting) on the West Side of Chicago during a dreary, weary day after reading Leila Allison’s enlivening poem “Tell the Pope to Buy a Telescope,” available on Saragun Springs; first date of publication Tuesday, August 26, 2025.
I.e. it was a weary, dreary day until reading the poem then being inspired by the poem to write this essay about it.
The Drifter suddenly pulled over near a vacant lot on the West Side, nodded to the old fellows smoking their bud around a trash can watering hole under a tree, then committed most of this essay to paper via a short-hand note-taking method in a language invented by none other than himself, readable by only himself, with colored pens on repurposed paper like old bills and advertising circulars.
It was like Leonardo da Vinci furiously working at his desks (he had more than one) in the middle of the night, long hair crazy-wild and fingernails long, dirty, and broken like Bob Dylan’s from digging up corpses for dissection and anatomical drawings the night before.
All that remained to do was draw it all together and translate it, somehow, into fairly readable standard English prose.
The results can be perused below; now or later or much later.
One of the first questions to ask when reading a poem (or anything) is, “What did the writer need to know in order to write this?”
Harold Bloom said that the main purpose for reading fine (and great, which is a cut above fine) imaginative literature was and is in order to augment one’s own consciousness.
Another word for “consciousness” here is PERSONALITY.
Another word/s for “augment” here is make it better.
And the answer to the question, “What did the writer need to know in order to write this?” these days is, all too often, “Nothing;” or, “Not much.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson, author of “The Shot Heard ’Round the World,” and whom Bloom called the Mind of America because of Waldo’s influence, both positive and negative, on all other subsequent American thinkers, whether they know it or not, said that a poem was “a meter-making argument.”
What Emerson meant by this (or one thing anyway) is that the “argument,” or reason-for-being, of a poem is what elevates its language, what calls for the poem to be written as a poem instead of in prose.
The “argument” here is NOT polemical, political, a run-of-the-mill opinion, or a straight-up “idea” like how to conquer the moon or invent a better way of doing something practical.
Poetry’s impracticability is another one of its essential features. If it was only about doing things it wouldn’t be poetry, or not poetry (which is thinking) at its highest levels.
Philip Larkin called the modern short poem, which is the most common form of poem now, “a single emotional spear-point.”
An emotional spear-point has to have a deep reason for being, or it can’t be itself.
PART TWO
Here are just a few of the things Irene Leila Allison needed to know in order to write her poem “Tell the Pope to Buy a Telescope,” according to this writer (The Drifter, aka Dale Williams Barrigar, MFA, PhD).
One: What it was like to be none other than Galileo.
Two: What the power dynamics were like in society during Galileo’s time. (He was born the same year as Shakespeare and lived 26 years longer than The Bard, to the age of 77, which would be more akin to 97 today.)
Three: What it is like to challenge authority with the pen (or the keyboard) in any age. (For this to happen, you need to challenge it with your mind and your life first.)
Four: What the power dynamics are like in society in any age.
Five: The subversive nature of true creativity (or creativity at its deepest levels) in any age, including Galileo’s, and our own.
Six: The price to be paid for being subversive in any age, whether it be in writing or in any mode, like any form of resistance, which is available and morally required (in different forms, depending on the person) of everybody. (Jesus himself was nothing if not a rebellious spirit, at least when it came to the goings-on in this earthly realm.)
This list could go on but the Drifter will stop with a round half dozen in order to give the reader time to think about this.
…
…
The seventh thing (7 = heaven) Leila Allison needed to know in order to write this poem was how to fit all of the above into the space of just over one hundred words.
Return to the half dozen items listed above, and then ponder knowing all that, and then ponder the magic of powerfully, clearly, and beautifully expressing all of the above in a third of the words Lincoln used for his Gettysburg Address.
Not a single syllable is wasted in Ms. Allison’s poem, much less a single word.
Words are reinvented in this poem, used so they can be understood by the reader but also torn out of their “normal” context and made new again.
Here is just one example.
Describing Galileo making his amazing discoveries that changed the entire human world while under house arrest, Ms. Allison says, “the spheres (and spears) remained.”
In five words, she’s boiled down one of the most profound humans and human projects of all time into a space that is tiny in terms of its actual size, and as gigantic as the entire universe itself in terms of its implications.
This is what true poetry is, saying so much in five words or less that entire pages, or even books, of prose could be written upon it and still not capture its essence.
And doing it all while being beautiful.
At this point, I urge any and all readers of this to seek out Ms. Allison’s poem “Tell the Pope to Buy a Telescope.”
The title sounds like it could have been come up with by James Thurber, Lewis Carroll, or Dr. Seuss (he was one of the most important American poets of all time, which is neither a joke nor an exaggeration), a sign of the light hands of the poet.
Because children, too, should be told about people like Galileo; and the intelligent child in all of us is what keeps us alive.
And after truly studying, and absorbing, this poem, you will know more about Galileo, the world, and the universe than, literally, entire book-length works about him or his times can tell you.
FIND THE POEM, AND WORK TO LET IT FIND YOU.
From the West Side of Chicago:
Signed, The Drifter…
Saragun Springs 
Good morning Drifter
This is a surprise! A well written one too, with remarkable Sir Boo and a stunning header.
Thank you so much. I have a HS education but I have read a lot. I grew up fascinated by astronomy and read about Galileo v. The Church and people like Tycho Brahe and Copernicus (another scofflaw) and Newton by the time I was ten. Most people do not know Galileo’s brave tale. He knew what he faced but published anyway. He had courage and yet was smart enough to retract when he was shown the rack or thumbscrews or whatever they were going to use on him, which is very hard to equate with a religion based on the teachings of Christ.
I will probably add more later, but for now all my thanks and I hope people look up the great astronomer and his legacy.
Leila
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Leila
A ten-year-old kid fascinated with astronomy who already read about Galileo and his compeers is amazing, no other word for it, and given what you’ve made of it since then, there’s only one word for it, it begins with a g and has six letters.
Also want to point out that Bob Dylan and Charles Bukowski both had high school educations, too. Hunter S. Thompson did not: because he didn’t even graduate from high school.
I know people who believe you can’t be a writer without a college degree (who make their livings “teaching” and selling college degrees in writing). They are almost universally weak writers and tame and scared humans, even the ones who’ve sold bad novels for large sums in the past. New York City is the trash heap of literature these days. Kinda like how Hollywood can no longer make a good movie (at all).
THANK YOU!
The D
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Dale
I omitted praise for your unselfishness; I fear that the concept will become obsolete before the word. You are a most generous person!
Leila
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L
The two pictures for today celebrate, or express, my vision of what REAL Christianity is, in other words, the kind that is really, truly based on the real teachings of Jesus, and his mother (from The Magnificat, Gospel of Luke).
There is a reason he called himself the good shepherd.
NOT the Leader of the World NOR the Founder of the Prosperity Gospel.
And it connects to the “Hands of the Poet” title image/s from the essay, because it is my belief that “Christ’s religion was essentially poetry,” as Elizbeth Barrett Browning said it was.
D
PS
Robert Browning said of EBB, who died in his arms, “She died smilingly, happily….her last word was ‘Beautiful.'”
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Hi Dale
That is a good way to go “Beautiful.”
Too many people fail to understand that fanatics no better represent Christianity than bin Laden did Islam. I wish violent people would not use relgion as a reason.
Thanks again!
Leila
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I am often, hmm, I should maybe be more honest and say ‘was’ because for some reason since my dad died my love of poetry, writing and reading has been dreadfully diminished. Can’t explain how one of my earliest creative passions could be lost. I keep hoping things will change. But, what I was about to say was I feel that the nail has been well and truly clouted by this essay. A few short short lines and a universe can be opened. Leila’s incredible imagination and skill with words are beautifully demonstrated in her poetry I think. So many times the bravest people seem to be the creatives, no guns or sharp swords but belief – well that’s my two pennorth any way. Thanks for this – dd
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Diane
Thanks for this awesome comment!
I think the poetic muse is always fickle, and slippery. For ten years I couldn’t stop writing poetry but now I write almost all prose, even though much of it, or most of it, is about poetry.
“…the creatives, no guns or sharp swords but belief” – this is a BRILLIANT sentence, or part of a sentence!
Actually, it’s prose poetry, true, and beautiful!
Thank you!
Dale
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Dear Galileo
Can’t say as i blame you.
It was a great revelation in learning, but not worth having your arms and legs chopped off in front of your own eyes while still alive…….
Thanks for being Secretive yet persistent!
The D
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Hi Dale
It amazes how quick the church would go to such a thing, period. It, like all persecutions of the powerless, was evil.
Leila
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Hey Drifter
First off I like the dreary tone and a sort of despondent activity. I’ve felt that way many times. Back in my bad old days glowing with depression and booze on my breath I would calculate my destruction on this or that tree. Then go off to another bar or liquor store.
The colored pencils and discarded advertisements are a cool touch! The long haired dude, and dirty finger nails, too!
An extremely good point “What did the writer need to know in order to write this?”
This is what I like so much about your writing. All the things you know of literature and the willingness to share it! I’d never heard of Harold Bloom, before, until I met The Drifter.
I need to ask myself this question.
Wow great break down on Leila’s poem!
I really like the topic of this poem and the conflict. The prose is wonderful! Like the kaleidoscope. It brings words into focus, fuzzing out, and coming back..
The historical context would indeed be something you would have to know. I love history! You couldn’t write this out of thin air. I think people forget about this sharing of knowledge that they receive from reading and are greedily lap up–taking it for granted. (I do.)There’s a lot of work behind such a creation as this poem. It does augment the mind.
Thanks for more enlightenment!
Christopher
PS I couldn’t find the “Glory” topic mentioned yesterday.
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Christopher
Thanks for reading The Drifter! Your ability to understand what the hell he seems trying to say always amazes!
Saw the recent pictures you sent to the Springs. Unbelievably beautiful work!
DB
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Hi Dale
The Drifter continues to shine! He’s a humble fellow!
Glad you like the latest pictures! My former wife was always trying to get me to do something with them. It’s really great you and Leila want them for Saragun Springs.
The digital age is a strange time. So many people take pictures but will there be any hard copies left like the old days? 100 years from now they will be saying, “Hey, I found one of those little picture cards” Then, “Oh no! The radiation corrupted it.”
from almost outer-space
Christopher
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CJA
“Almost outer space” is so correct in so many ways!
Sometimes I think that pictures now are like what sonnets were in Shakespeare’s day: everybody makes them but almost all of them are complete trash.
I applaud your ex wife and still partner for urging you to do something with the pictures, and I also applaud you for making the pictures without any other object in mind.
After all, the first art back in cave-people days was made for the joy of it, no other reason.
At some point some slick USA snake oil salesman (like the devil in disguise) came around and convinced everyone that art has to immediately be worth a lot of money or it ain’t worth nothing.
That viewpoint is so wrong and so corrupt it staggers the mind (and the heart) that so many have bought into it.
The best art’s reason for being is the fact that it is art. It doesn’t need a price tag.
And the truth is that a lot of people who get paid to make stuff are busy making none other than disposable trash.
Especially in a late-empire corrupt and “advanced” society like ours where almost everything “mainstream” has a tinge (or much much more than that) of fakery and fraud about it.
So much academic writing, for example, is anything but authentic! And real art is always authentic, one way or another.
But your ex is right, these pictures deserve to be seen!
Great work at every level, these latest pictures are breath-takingly good, to the point where it makes the viewer wonder how you did it: which is the magic of art!
SO how did you do it, like the one with the cat?
DWB
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Hi Dale aka The Drifter (cool name).
Glad you liked the almost outer space. It seemed to fit somehow.
Wow this is a really excellent exposition on art. I read it yesterday and right away it had me thinking.
Picasso said, cave art was the most beautiful art ever created. They are amazing and some of the images are of extinct animals like the red cow. When cows were wild.
Yes the people that deem art in a monetary value. And create terms like “the starving artist” (less than the wealthy artist) are almost diabolical. Everything has to be about money. No wonder Marx condemned capitalism. In many ways he was right to do so. But other systems don’t really work either, because of greed.
Yes she has been almost upset that I haven’t done much with the photos. She has a lot of hers on Facebook. We were out yesterday on a sort of odyssey. She had forgotten a walking stick left at a nature park. On the returning trip we got caught up on a winding trilogy part 1-2-3 involving Indianapolis. Like we could never leave it.
We got to a place called McCloud Nature Park. Very cool place and within five minutes of it closing. She got her stick back. Then we went to another place called Big Walnut Nature reserve, and it was like being in the wilderness. Walking the trails at one point I said, “I think we could get lost in here.” We didn’t meet a single soul, either which was good.
The cat was one of those moments that you wished had a camera, and I did. It came across the road and ran into the woods stopped and turned for about 2 seconds and I snapped the shot. I have a really fast DSLR camera. Very lucky at least for me.
We felt bad for the Northern Flicker one of our favorite birds. This brought up the controversy of domestic cats killing birds in the wild at a prolific rate, about as bad as power lines.
Thanks for your comments! I like how you critic society with a sociological view of its criminality.
From the Deep Woods–OFF. Mosquitoes
Christopher
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Christopher
Thanks for sharing these tales of wandering around Indiana, they had the particular virtue of cheering me up!
Indiana is a beautiful state. The vast, open expanses of the Midwest punctuated by forests and rivers is one of a kind. The prairie is like an ocean, not to mention it used to be one not all that long ago.
I feel sorry for the bird in that photo but luckily for him he’s allegorical too, since all of us will end up like him in the end, one way or another. A beautiful picture, since death is the mother of beauty, as Wallace Stevens said.
Tell The Ex I said hi! and thanks again for tales of Odysseus-like wanderings through the Heartland.
Dale
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Hi Dale
Glad this brought some cheer! Thank you!
I like the way you described the Midwest! It is indeed “punctuated by forests and rivers.” Some of these places are vast! More than people from other states, might think.
I just read your Drifter Column and the spirit of the piece I can truly relate to. Very gritty and very good!
This wandering into places that are probably inherently dangerous, but freedom demands stepping outside the boundaries! Where the rules may not be applied.
Great way to describe the death of the bird. The W. Stevens’ reference helps–ease the mind.
Christopher
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