Posts Tagged ‘ love ’

Marianne Williamson Drops Out of 2020 Race – The New York Times

In her message to supporters, Ms. Williamson said that she would back the eventual Democratic nominee, no matter who it is: “I will be there with all my energy and in full support.”

“Things are changing swiftly and dramatically in this country, and I have faith that something is awakening among us,” she wrote. “A politics of conscience is still yet possible. And yes … love willprevail.”

Choman Hardi: A Day for Love on Vimeo

November Sky | Icebox

November Sky

November sky
Quite as blue as over
April’s blossoms

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My partner and I have been together for over a decade. For several years now, this has been a miracle that, like most miracles, has come to seem everyday.

Yawning blue I
Never tire of you, oh,
Tire not of me

Source: November Sky | Icebox

Sean Bonney’s Hate Poems « Post45

 

The text of ruminations then commences:

On appelle Calendrier le decoupage et l’étiquetage des morceaux de temps. C’est grâce à ce classement que nous nous retrouvons dans le dévidage de l’existence.

Sans calendrier nous ne serions bougrement pas à la noce: on vivoterait à l”aveuglette, kif-kif les animaux.

The calendar is our name for the cutting up and labeling of bits of time. It’s thanks to this arrangement we that can find our way around in the unraveling of existence.

Without the calendar we wouldn’t be in such a fucking mess: we’d scrape by blindly, same as the animals.25

“Same as the animals” also means, or will do as code for, “who gives a fuck.” Blah blah. “We both know what that means.”

Blah blah is also an associative trigger that the poem sees coming. The excoriation sets off a memory prepared earlier. The next sentence is “It put me in mind of the mass incineration of farm animals that happened in Britain, in 2001.” The shift up into a literary idiom (“it put me in mind of”) is subtly, but clearly, stagy: the poet is not just thinking of something, he is performing a reminiscence. The text knows that the scene brought in for the purpose of this reminiscence (the mass incineration of farm animals) is by this point in the authorship liable to seem generic. An associative trigger in a poem by Bonney, seen coming or not, will not put the poet in mind of a nice Christmas. Association doesn’t work like that, especially not within the prison of the prose block, and certainly never in a “Love Poem.”

This too is part of the stagy consistency of the text, which knows (as you also know) that writing is now, in the contemporary eternal dévidage, either a stranglehold on devastation or a longwinded airy load of bullshit and nothing. “The poetic moans of this century have been, for the most part, a banal patina of snobbery, vanity and sophistry,” reports the “Letter on Riots and Doubt.”

*    *     *

Source: Sean Bonney’s Hate Poems « Post45

“A way of shutting my eyes”: Reflections on the Photographic Turn in Recent Literary Memoirs | 3 Quarks Daily

by Rafaël Newman For Fred Weinstein “What is hidden is for us Westerners more ‘true’ than what is visible,” Roland Barthes proposed, in Camera Lucida, his phenomenology of the photograph, almost forty years ago. In the decades since, the internet, nanotechnology, and viral marketing have challenged his privileging of the unseen over the seen by…

Source: “A way of shutting my eyes”: Reflections on the Photographic Turn in Recent Literary Memoirs | 3 Quarks Daily

The Gospel According to Marianne Williamson – The New York Times

Vitro Nasu » Blog Archive » Gary Snyder – Poet of Deep Ecology at 89

 

Gary Snyder (Photo by Allen Ginsberg )

 

Happy birthday Gary Snyder (May 8 1930)

 

“Range after range of mountains.
Year after year after year.
I am still in love.”

― Gary Snyder, Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems

 

Source: Vitro Nasu » Blog Archive » Gary Snyder – Poet of Deep Ecology at 89