Posts Tagged ‘ lies ’
Landfill workers bury all plastic except soda bottles and milk jugs at Rogue Disposal & Recycling in southern Oregon.
Laura Sullivan/NPR
Source: Is Plastic Recycling A Lie? Oil Companies Touted Recycling To Sell More Plastic : NPR
Toppled statue of Jefferson Davis, Richmond, Virginia, June 10, 2020
Symbols can outlast their belief systems, or perpetuate them. Despite their catastrophic losses, the Confederate battle flag and the swastika continue to represent their hateful ideologies, long after surrender and the deaths of the original participants. Neo-Nazis and neo-Confederates still walk among us….
photo by Antima Moe
Thinking gratefully and continually about my amazing experience with the Myanmar poets in late May in Yangon, where I facilitated a poetics workshop called “Lies and Dream . . .
Nada Gordon ~ My brainstorm about my desires for poems:
I want poems to be capacious — not necessarily in volume — to have a richness of surface and language —
even when minimal — the spaces between words in a minimal poems should BREED thoughts/images/hallucinations
so…a kind of sublime drugginess…
simultaneously personal — no–motivated — I want to feel the reason for the poem –that reason can just be the reason
and also impersonal — but not…”distanced” — located in the stuff of language, its feel on the eye/ear/tongue
I want it witty — can express “truths: but oughtn’t to settle in them — better, momentary insights
and I want it to resist descriptiveness
I want new chemical combinations in language — not just for the sake of weirdness like surrealism…too obvious, negates its own weirdness
generally I want it to avoid making points that it doesn’t subvert
I want everything to be in question
like being in an unfamiliar city — each corner turned should to something startling —
maybe beautiful, maybe squalid
but anyway unexpected
I want codes
I don’t want identity (or at least not any simple definition of what identity might mean) so much, since going beyond it is a kind of nirvana
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Source: Lies and Dreams: a Workshop with Myanmar poets – Otohime
Writers, thinkers, intellectuals, artists, ¡poets! Need to heal themselves (from themselves) in order to become true visionaries. We haven’t done that — that’s the only task that completely matters right now. But what is happening now? In Latin America, in Spain, in Europe, in China, in Japan, in America, in Russia, in everyplace the human mind is afraid of being an animal still evolving—and after the big upheaval we are living a return to the old models of poet as man-of-letters, and ‘artists’ as man-of-walls, though by way of post-modern disguises! Deceit yourselves! Or use all your irony or all your critical theory you can to hide from what you deeply know! Poets have to become knowers. **** Poetry then means the new-making of oneself.– Heriberto Yépez
I WANNA TAKE YOU HAIBUN
Is it that we envision a godhead liar? A god we’re indebted to for our living a lie?
There is nothing in the world left to believe. It’s a shock. No more lies. They’re all believed up.
Still we wait in line at a lie station. Creatures of habit. Even then it’s self service. Used to be “fill’er up, buddy,” now we’re the father of our own lies and must lie to ourselves (such a burden): “I’m really happy!” “This is the greatest country in the world.” “We are a free people.”
Tell ourselves “our boys” are not “over there” killing and dying for lies, our durable linoleum lies.
Because we’re pumped up now. We have full tanks of prehistoric death. Death from the land before time when there must have been real life.
When all lies are gone there’s no more world. Nothing to identify. Where are we? Then our lie-life lines are broken. We are lost. Then we are living on empty. Emptiness like nothing in our pockets, with only life in our lives, to die freely.
Old pond
lives for
nothing
sound
SW
word pond 