Posts Tagged ‘ poetry ’

Wolfman Librarian | NewPages.com

During the Occupy Movement in New York City when The People literally took over Zuccotti Park, poet Filip Marinovich was right there in the mix, helping to set up and run the People’s Library and reading his poems over the People’s Mic, “the people’s mic is intoxicating / that’s why I am its pauper king” (“Zuccotti Park Fugue State”). The poems gathered in Wolfman Librarian stem directly from Marinovich’s experience with Occupy.

Source: Wolfman Librarian | NewPages.com

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One Man’s César Vallejo | Open Letters Monthly – an Arts and Literature Review

I lose contact with the sea
when the waters come to me.

Let us always depart. Let us savor
the stupendous song, the song expressed
by the lower lips of desire.

– César Vallejo

“Vallejo is a difficult poet to quote briefly because he writes with a kind of stutter: his thoughts are constantly breaking off, catching up with themselves late, contradicting. He demands the whole space of a poem to pull off his best effects. Those unable to read the second line of a poem without fully coming to terms with the first will have little truck with Vallejo. But this casual, idiosyncratic, endlessly creative course of expression is his innovation and his legacy.

Although a number of poets are translating or have translated all of Vallejo’s poetry into English, Clayton Eshleman is the first to have published the entirety of his work in a single volume. It’s no book for the squeamish. Vallejo is a violent writer in every sense. Thwarted and inherited loves, inspiring patriotism, a resentful standoff with God, the dream of perfect socialism, and a loving, brutal fuck with language lace his poems like loaded coils.” – John Cotter, from César Vallejo: The Complete Poetry, Edited and Translated by Clayton Eshleman

Source: One Man’s César Vallejo | Open Letters Monthly – an Arts and Literature Review

This posting is inspired by the following discovered at “Questa notte scendo da cavallo.. – César Vallejo at Vengodalmare

On Alejandra Pizarnik’s poetry – The Volatile I by Johannes Göransson | Boston Review

THE HEART OF WHAT DOES EXIST

do not hand me over,

oh saddest of midnights,

to the impure whiteness of noon.

– Alejandra Pizarnik
from Works and Nights (1965)

LOVERS

a flower

not far from the night

my mute body

opens

to the dew and its fragile urgency

– Alejandra Pizarnik
from Works and Nights (1965)

 

VERTIGO, OR A CONTEMPLATION
OF THINGS THAT COME TO AN END

This lilac unlaces.

It falls from itself

and hides its ancient shadow.

I will die of such things.

– Alejandra Pizarnik
from Extracting the Stone of Madness (1968)

 

DEAF LANTERN

The absent figures are sighing and the night is thick. The night is

the color of the eyelids of the dead.

All night long I make the night. All night long I write. Word by word

I am writing the night.

– Alejandra Pizarnik
from Extracting the Stone of Madness (1968)

Translations by Yvette Siegert

In ecstatic states, it may not be clear whether we are in paradise or hell, whether the song is happy or sad. This is the experience Pizarnik describes even as she propels herself into its drunkenness, creating a saturated atmosphere that is, as Negroni puts it, the “antidote to transcendence.” Or it might be a kind of anti-transcendence, found precisely in the negation of transcendence, the refusal to elevate poetry into “concept.” Her poetry feels like a constant, intensive refusal that generates its own Gothic beauty and black light: “imminence without a recipient. I see the melody.”

Alejandra Pizarnik’s poetry finally gets the English translation it deserves.

Source: The Volatile I | Boston Review

~ to share with Marina

 

 

On Instafame & Reading Rupi Kaur BY KAZIM ALI :: Poetry Foundation

kazim-ali

Kazim Ali

 

. . . On Reading Rupi Kaur . . .

Poet Dionne Brand reads from Ossuaries – YouTube

 

The poem “ossuary viii”  may be read here in its entirety ~
Dionne Brand reads ossuary VIII

Why Vilnius rules. On people and monuments | Versopolis

Vilnius is the capital of Lithuania, a small post-Soviet Baltic state. It also used to be the capital of The Grand Duchy of Lithuania (GDL), with its first written reference dating as early as the 14th century. Lithuania is a young democratic country with long and difficult history to match, winters that will get on your nerves, and one of the oldest languages in the world. Linguists studying the ancient Indo-European languages, chiefly Sanskrit, learn Lithuanian first, because they are closely related: Similar in conjugations, pronouns, names for body parts and structure of a great number of words. Naturally, there have always been many languages spoken in Vilnius: Lithuanian, Yiddish, Polish, Russian, and now also English.

During the interwar period, as Lithuania had lost possession of Vilnius, as well as the Baltic coast, Lithuanians only constituted 2% of the residents of the city. The number only increased after World War II, with Vilnius returned to Lithuania again. For several centuries, it had been a city of Poles and Litvaks, mostly, an interesting crossroad of cultures. Only Jerusalem and Vilnius are said to have so many different temples so close to each other: Catholic, Orthodox, Evangelist, Uniate, Judaist…

Vilnius does have a special Vilnian charm. Baltic states remain a terra incognita to the Western civilization. Vilnius, Riga and Tallinn are confused with each other. So…

What makes Vilnius special?

Many things, really. Vilnian Baroque, established by Silesian architect, Johann Christoph Glaubitz, for instance, and Litvak culture – for several centuries, Vilnius used to be the spiritual center of Ashkenazi Jews, often referred to as the Northern Jerusalem. This is where writer and Nobel Prize winner Czesław Miłosz studied, this is where his friend, Joseph Brodsky, another Nobel laureate, partied. French writer Romain Gary, the only writer ever to win two Goncourt Prizes, was born here. Some wonderful Yiddish-language poets lived in Vilnius – my beloved Moyshe Kulbak, Abraham Sutzkever. Of course, many interesting Lithuanian writers also worked in Vilnius – Žemaitė, S. Nėris and others.

Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva’s letters to her Vilnian friend were found recently. Polish Romanticist poet Adam Mickiewicz studied here – there’s a monument to him in Paris, too. Born in Vilnius was Jewish anarchist, writer, activist and prisoner, Alexander Berkman, the significant other of the most dangerous woman in the US, in the beginning of 20th century, also Litvak, Emma Goldman. The students of Vilnius Academy of Arts – mostly Jews from around the present-day Lithuania, Belarus and Poland – moved to Paris in early 20th century, forming the second wave of École de Paris, which made a great impact on Western modernism.

One text is evidently not enough to fully reveal the love I have for Vilnius. So let’s do it in a simpler way: I’ll tell you how this whole cultural variety is displayed in the city’s monuments and sculptures.

Four Lithuanian Writers

The central street of Vilnius – Gedimino prospektas – is where she sits: Žemaitė (Julija Beniuševičiūtė-Žymantienė, 1845–1921). A woman in a rustic headscarf and with a pipe. The latter was left out, in the Soviet monument – it was probably considered unattractive: A woman with a pipe, yuck… An impoverished, noble-born girl came to Vilnius from Žemaitija, Western Lithuania. She would walk barefoot because, according to her, “stones tear up the shoes.” She brought up 7 children with her husband, and fell in love with another man 30 years her junior, who later married her daughter. A decided feminist, she took part in the first Lithuanian women’s congress, in 1907. During World War I, on the eve of her 70th birthday, she decided to go to America. Even there, out of eccentricity, she kept the accessory of a countrywoman – the headscarf. It remained the detail of the writer’s personal style.

Next to this monument, feminist readings take place. Me and my friends placed a colorful balaclava helmet on Žemaitė’s head once – after the picket to support the Pussy Riot girls, who were in prison at that time, when we still liked them. In short, this monument is full of life, and Žemaitė Square turns sometimes into an interesting public space.  . . . .

Source: Why Vilnius rules. On people and monuments | Versopolis

A Longhouse Birdhouse: LONGHOUSE BIBLIOGRAPHY TO DATE ~

Source: A Longhouse Birdhouse: LONGHOUSE BIBLIOGRAPHY TO DATE ~