Archive for October, 2012

Wildlife Photographer of the Year 2012 – In Focus – The Atlantic

Wildlife Photographer of the Year 2012 – In Focus – The Atlantic.

WRI(GH)TE [ING] PUNCTUATION: READING LESLIE SCALAPINO / EOAGH

WRI(GH)TE [ING] PUNCTUATION: READING LESLIE SCALAPINO | EOAGH.

Autumn Falling, a photograph by Pd Lietz

Pd Lietz Autumn Falling photograph 2012

Pd Lietz Photography

Little Epiphanies, by Allison Joseph / Salamander Cove

Little Epiphanies

 

The difference between what’s required

and what’s desired is the difference

 

between the chocolate and the cake,

the car and the new car smell, the nightie

 

and the night. There’s so much I want

to twist round my fingers, to stroke

 

and stir, sketch and stretch, but so much

I should sweep and scrub, strip

 

and sterilize.  But I’d rather wring dirt

from my pores, turn it to ink instead,

 

rather scurry to my driveway to study

the moon’s abrupt phrases than kneel

 

with bucket and mop to banish shadows

that have sprung up on my kitchen

 

floor, darkening my soles as if I were

anointed, a kind of low-rent henna

 

for the lazy and uninhibited.

I should keep the unmentionables

 

unmentioned, nudity prohibited,

purses to a minimum, but I thrive

 

on clutter—my gaudy bras and bags

of yarn, my malfunctioning pens,

 

last chance reams of slightly damaged

paper. The difference between what’s whole

 

and what’s held, what’s withheld

or revealed, what’s real and what’s

 

revelation—that’s what I seek,

rest of my life spent in search

 

of little epiphanies, tiny sparks surging

out of the brain during the clumsiest speech.

 

~ ~   Allison Joseph
          Salamander Cove

 

Valparaiso Poetry Review, Fall/Winter 2009-2010, Vol. XI, Number 1

On Living, by Nazim Hikmet

On Living

 

by Nazim Hikmet

translated by Mutlu Konuk and Randy Blasing

 

I

Living is no laughing matter:

you must live with great seriousness

like a squirrel, for example–

I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,

I mean living must be your whole occupation.

Living is no laughing matter:

you must take it seriously,

so much so and to such a degree

that, for example, your hands tied behind your back,

your back to the wall,

or else in a laboratory

in your white coat and safety glasses,

you can die for people–

even for people whose faces you’ve never seen,

even though you know living

is the most real, the most beautiful thing.

I mean, you must take living so seriously

that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant olive trees–

and not for your children, either,

but because although you fear death you don’t believe it,

because living, I mean, weighs heavier.

II

Let’s say we’re seriously ill, need surgery–

which is to say we might not get up

from the white table.

Even though it’s impossible not to feel sad

about going a little too soon,

we’ll still laugh at the jokes being told,

we’ll look out the window to see if it’s raining,

or still wait anxiously

for the latest newscast . . .

Let’s say we’re at the front –

for something worth fighting for, say.

There, in the first offensive, on that very day,

we might fall on our face, dead.

We’ll know this with a curious anger,

but we’ll still worry ourselves to death

about the outcome of the war, which could last years.

Let’s say we’re in prison

and close to fifty,

and we have eighteen more years, say,

before the iron doors will open.

We’ll still live with the outside,

with its people and animals, struggle and wind –

I  mean with the outside beyond the walls.

I mean, however and wherever we are,

we must live as if we will never die.

III

This earth will grow cold,

a star among stars

and one of the smallest,

a gilded mote on blue velvet –

I mean this, our great earth.

This earth will grow cold one day,

not like a block of ice

or a dead cloud even

but like an empty walnut it will roll along

in pitch-black space . . .

You must grieve for this right now

–you have to feel this sorrow now–

for the world must be loved this much

if you’re going to say “I lived”. . .

The New Yorker’s Endorsement of Barack Obama : The New Yorker

The New Yorker’s Endorsement of Barack Obama : The New Yorker.

McGovern: He Never Sold His Soul, by Chris Hedges :: Common Dreams

McGovern: He Never Sold His Soul | Common Dreams.

Drawing from the City: Exquisite Indian Folk Art Meets Women’s Empowerment / Brain Pickings

Drawing from the City: Exquisite Indian Folk Art Meets Women’s Empowerment | Brain Pickings.

Freud on Creative Writing and Daydreaming / Brain Pickings

Freud on Creative Writing and Daydreaming | Brain Pickings.

Sen. George McGovern Dies : The Two-Way : NPR

Former presidential nominee and Sen. George McGovern.

Sen. George McGovern Dies : The Two-Way : NPR.

capitoilette

Gregg Levine, contributing editor and former managing editor of Firedoglake, and contributing writer for Truthout, as well as editor and writer for capitoilette, wrote in the above: “. . . this is not the time to despair over that loss, [McGovern’s loss toNixon], but to recall with warmth and amazement that a candidate like George McGovern was once the presidential nominee of a major national party. The speech I have included here – McGovern’s acceptance speech at the 1972 Democratic National Convention – was considered by those that saw it as one of the greatest of the Senator’s career, and perhaps one of the greatest by any modern presidential candidate.”

In 1968 the legislator and poet Sen. Eugene McCarthy’s candidacy, which I had supported, although short-lived, had influenced a sitting American president, Lyndon B. Johnson, to not seek a second term. On April 4, 1968, the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr, was assassinated in Memphis. In my mindheart I conflated my love of his lifelong nonviolent work for civil rights and peace, with Sen. Robert Kennedy’s campaign, which I informally supported until his assassination that  June. Four years later, I volunteered as a door to door canvasser for George McGovern’s campaign. He was not assassinated, but he was more or less silenced in other ways. He was a reasonable, patient, and peaceful individual who would have ended the Vietnam War and work tirelessly for economic equality and human rights. The fact that Martin Luther King Jr, because of his race, could not attain the presidency, has always been, in my opinion, the greatest of all losses to this country I call home. George McGovern’s loss to Nixon in that 1972 election delivered another kind of longterm loss of what would have been strong, kind leadership. We had to wait for President Barack Obama to introduce a sense of fairness, kindness, and civility to American political discourse. ~ Donna Fleischer