Posts Tagged ‘ pain ’

Give Me This by Ada Limón – Poems | Academy of American Poets

Give Me This

Ada Limón – 1976-

I thought it was the neighbor’s cat back
to clean the clock of the fledgling robins low
in their nest stuck in the dense hedge by the house
but what came was much stranger, a liquidity
moving all muscle and bristle. A groundhog
slippery and waddle thieving my tomatoes still
green in the morning’s shade. I watched her
munch and stand on her haunches taking such
pleasure in the watery bites. Why am I not allowed
delight? A stranger writes to request my thoughts
on suffering. Barbed wire pulled out of the mouth,
as if demanding that I kneel to the trap of coiled
spikes used in warfare and fencing. Instead,
I watch the groundhog closer and a sound escapes
me, a small spasm of joy I did not imagine
when I woke. She is a funny creature and earnest,
and she is doing what she can to survive.

Source: Give Me This by Ada Limón – Poems | Academy of American Poets

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

The New Anxiety Therapy That’s All About Accepting Your Fears

A new kind of counseling is changing how people get help  —  and it’s working

Source: The New Anxiety Therapy That’s All About Accepting Your Fears

Art in a Time of Atrocity – The New York Times

Louise Glück – “First Memory”

Long ago, I was wounded. I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was–
for what I was: from the beginning of time,
in childhood, I thought
that pain meant
I was not loved.
It meant I loved.

Weyes Blood – Some Winters [Official Audio]

Weyes Blood | BOMB

~ posting this to share her uncanny technique, not lyrics

: fable

 

: fable.

Orgasm During Childbirth

For Amy « Russell Brand

 

 

For Amy « Russell Brand.

James Baldwin on hate and pain

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.  – James Baldwin