Archive for October, 2018
Hiroaki Sato has a new book, On Haiku, coming out from New Directions. One chapter that takes a look at the haiku of Yukio Mishima is in The Paris Review. It’s available to read online. . . .
Source: Yukio Mishima’s Haiku – is/let
Clay Etruscan Head
“We arrived home on All Soul’s, when the barrier between worlds is thin. That night, out under the stars (the entire sky above again!), I listened to the black sunflower skeletons rattle together in the wind. I could hear the dead parting the stalks, saying: Who are you? Who was I? I built a small frame from fallen apple twigs to use as a scrying window and looked through it – to see the shades move, dark against dark, their eyes black as sunflower seeds, blinking, newborn.
Then I whispered the names of the dead over a crack in a stone – dead poets, old loves, lost pets, Aunt Marita, Uncle Jack, even all my previous incarnations and their words (so many words – now long gone). I prayed for silence, and, at the same time, hoped that something or someone would whisper back…” – Christien Golson, from
Late October, Part II: Grief & Praise
Have a beautiful Day of the Dead.
Source: noise & silence: Late October, Part II: Grief & Praise
Marilyn McCabe is a singer/poet/essayist/friend. She has already appeared on NC with her own poetry, translations, and in song–which makes her a kind of regular, an old favourite, at least an old favourite of mine. Herewith we offer a poem by the 19th century French poet Paul-Armand Silvestre with a Marilyn McCabe translation and Marilyn McCabe singing the French version put to music by Gabriel Fauré.
(As usual, the people lead the politicians. Yoko Ono released a new CD called, Warzone. One war after another to deflect our attention from the war of all wars, the one that begins inside each of us.) – Donna Fleischer at word pond)
Yoko Ono at her home in New York earlier this year, holding a printout of the lyrics of her song “I Love All of Me” (photo by the author for Hyperallergic)
So, how or why, I asked her, despite the unfathomable crisis in which the world finds itself today, does she remain optimistic?
Ono leaned forward and, as though revealing the most obvious-than-ever answer to the knottiest of kōan riddles, matter-of-factly replied, “Because I’m alive.”
word pond 