Sitting
Bull said, “As individual fingers we can easily be broke, but all
together we make a mighty fist.”
Friday, December 30, 2016
William Bronk
“.. time is what/ I mean, a simple
thing … but something confutes it, confutes/ our constructs such as
‘time’…” William Bronk
Thursday, December 29, 2016
1948 HITS ARCHIVE: It's Too Soon To Know - Orioles
:-) One of my favourite Orioles cuts. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wQ_sXqjk30
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
from Bill Kushner, 'Civilization'
You talk to me, I listen. I
talk to you, you listen. Is
this like civilization or
what? We watch our hands,
fingers knotting, twisting, for
something hidden.
– Bill Kushner, 'Civilization'
Friday, December 23, 2016
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Alfred de Musset, on seeing George Sand long after their love affair ended:
My heart, still full of her,
Traveled over her face, and found her there no more . . .
I thought to myself that a woman unknown
Had adopted by chance that voice and those eyes
And I let the chilly statue pass
Looking at the skies
Traveled over her face, and found her there no more . . .
I thought to myself that a woman unknown
Had adopted by chance that voice and those eyes
And I let the chilly statue pass
Looking at the skies
Saturday, December 17, 2016
from CATVILLE
A
General Theory of Love
Preface
The
Heart's Castle
Kits,
Cats, Sacks, and Uncertainty
Archimedes'
Principle
A
Fiercer Sea
Gravity's
Incarnation
A
Bend in the Road
The
Book of Life
Between
Stone and Sky
A
Walk in the Shadows
The
Open Door
Notes
Acknowledgements
Notes
Acknowledgements
Friday, December 16, 2016
But the new religion, that of unlimited spiritual freedom—
whose dawn is now visible, whose banner bears the sacred
inscription, Equality, Liberty, Fraternity, —will also find a
befitting secular mode of expression. It will bring in its train
corresponding institutions and social forms. It will assume
the outward form of a republic such as the world has never
yet seen. “A republic without helots;” without poor; without
classes; without hereditary hewers of wood and drawers of
water; without slaves, whether chattel or wages slaves. “For
if I treat all men as divine, how can there be for me such a
thing as a slave?” A society, such indeed as the world has
never yet seen, —not only of free men, but of free women; a
society of equally holy, equally blessed gods. [Helen Macfarlane, ‘Signs of the
Times, Red Stockings versus Lawn-Sleeves’, Friend of the
People, December 21 and 26, 1850]
ESSENTIAL homemade 12 x CD-R (!) compilation of punk bands fronted by female vocalists from 1977 to 1989, with stuff ranging from world famous Blondie or Crass to the most obscure Eastern European cassette compilation veterans. The boxset came packaged in a handnumbered fancy translucent lunchbox enclosing all 12 CD-Rs, a stack of full-colored cards featuring comprehensive tracklist and artwork/info, as well as a manga pin-up figure!
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Asger Jorn quote
“Rather
an entangled and chaotic truth than a foursquare, beautiful,
symmetrical and finely-chiseled lie.” Asger Jorn, in Graham
Birtwhistle, Living
Art: Asger Jorn’s Comprehensive Theory of Art Between Helhesten and
Cobra, Reflex,
Utrecht, 1986, p. 69.
Monday, December 12, 2016
Sunday, December 11, 2016
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Friday, December 9, 2016
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Hendrix
“Atmospheres
are going to come through music because music is in a spiritual thing
of its own. It's like the waves of the ocean. You can't just cut out
the perfect wave and take it home with you. It's constantly moving
all the time. It is the biggest thing electrifying the earth. Music
and motion are all part of the race of man.” Jimi Hendrix, Life
Magazine, October 3, 1969
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
"When you get cornered, boxed in, with nowhere to go, and your people are attacked ... you resist... They take your land, your traditional ways, and then they want to start education their way, and all that is a continuation of their system. It's hard to be an Indian. They embargo your people, your ways, your nationhood. I had to expose this system that is used to destroy us, what is why I talked to the U.N., because we are a nation ... They say "we acquired the land, we conquered this land, but we, the Sioux nation were never conquered. We will take our sovereignty ... " - Grass-man, (pseudonym) 1993. interview given at the "Indigenous Voices and Genocide Meetings" in Chicago, 10/24/93. (Traditional and modern Lakota and Dakota "Sioux Indians" from Standing Rock continue to use one phrase which represents their cultural mosaic, -- "o-Mitakuye Oyasin"-- which means "we are all related" -- demonstrating the respect for all of one's relations that make up identity.) http://jwsr.pitt.edu/ojs/index.php/jwsr/article/viewFile/110/122
Sunday, December 4, 2016
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Friday, December 2, 2016
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
halā 'akhadhtu lihadha l-yawmu 'ahbathu
min qabli 'an tusbih l'ashwaqa ashjana
lahafi 'alayka qadaytu l-'umra muqtahiman
fi l-wasli naran wafi l'hijarana mirana.
– 'Ismaiel Sabri
(Would you have taken for this day that you fear/ from before the yearnings became griefs//I lament, for you have spent your lifetime storming/ in connection of fire and in departing fires.)
Monday, November 28, 2016
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Globalization hurt factory workers. Why not doctors? - LA Times
Globalization hurt factory workers. Why not doctors? - LA Times
It's a dirty little secret that while upper middle class professionals are generally quite supportive of free trade and unrestricted immigration they have explicitly been protected from the b#/^?/#! they foist on the rest of us.
It's a dirty little secret that while upper middle class professionals are generally quite supportive of free trade and unrestricted immigration they have explicitly been protected from the b#/^?/#! they foist on the rest of us.
Friday, November 25, 2016
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
An Open Letter to My Sister, Miss Angela Davis | by James Baldwin | The New York Review of Books
An Open Letter to My Sister, Miss Angela Davis | by James Baldwin | The New York Review of Books
"One way of gauging a nation’s health, or of discerning what it really considers to be its interests—or to what extent it can be considered as a nation as distinguished from a coalition of special interests—is to examine those people it elects to represent or protect it. One glance at the American leaders (or figure-heads) conveys that America is on the edge of absolute chaos, and also suggests the future to which American interests, if not the bulk of the American people, appear willing to consign the blacks. (Indeed, one look at our past conveys that.) It is clear that for the bulk of our (nominal) countrymen, we are all expendable."
"One way of gauging a nation’s health, or of discerning what it really considers to be its interests—or to what extent it can be considered as a nation as distinguished from a coalition of special interests—is to examine those people it elects to represent or protect it. One glance at the American leaders (or figure-heads) conveys that America is on the edge of absolute chaos, and also suggests the future to which American interests, if not the bulk of the American people, appear willing to consign the blacks. (Indeed, one look at our past conveys that.) It is clear that for the bulk of our (nominal) countrymen, we are all expendable."
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Saturday, November 19, 2016
'Are we the Baddies?' Mitchell and Webb Funny Nazi Scetch - YouTube
'Are we the Baddies?' Mitchell and Webb Funny Nazi Scetch - YouTube
(Looks at our Commander-in-Chief/ Leader of the Free World's policy plans....) Wait a minute, are WE the baddies....? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hn1VxaMEjRU
(Looks at our Commander-in-Chief/ Leader of the Free World's policy plans....) Wait a minute, are WE the baddies....? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hn1VxaMEjRU
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Freire on revolutionary's role
“The revolutionary's role is to liberate, and be liberated, with the people—not to win them over.” Paolo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, trans. Myra Bergman Ramos, Bloomsbury: 2013, p. 95.
Lucien Goldman on socialist literature
“The epochs during which the dominant classes are stable, epochs in which the workers' movement must defend itself against a powerful adversary which is occasionally threatening and is in every case solidly seated in power, produces naturally a socialist literature which emphasizes the 'material' element of reality, the obstacles to be overcome, and the scant efficacy of human awareness and action." Lucien Goldman, The Human Sciences and Philosophy (London, 1969), pp. 80-81.
Monday, November 7, 2016
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Rilke on love
In the seventh letter to his young friend, penned in May of 1904 and translated by M. D. Herter Norton, Rilke contemplates the true meaning of love and the particular blessings and burdens of young love:
To love is good, too: love being difficult. For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. For this reason young people, who are beginners in everything, cannot yet know love: they have to learn it. With their whole being, with all their forces, gathered close about their lonely, timid, upward-beating heart, they must learn to love. But learning-time is always a long, secluded time, and so loving, for a long while ahead and far on into life, is — solitude, intensified and deepened loneness for him who loves. Love is at first not anything that means merging, giving over, and uniting with another (for what would a union be of something unclarified and unfinished, still subordinate — ?), it is a high inducement to the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world for himself for another’s sake, it is a great exacting claim upon him, something that chooses him out and calls him to vast things. Only in this sense, as the task of working at themselves (“to hearken and to hammer day and night”), might young people use the love that is given them. Merging and surrendering and every kind of communion is not for them (who must save and gather for a long, long time still), is the ultimate, is perhaps that for which human lives as yet scarcely suffice.
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Friday, October 28, 2016
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Monday, October 24, 2016
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Monday, October 17, 2016
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Thursday, October 13, 2016
The frighteningly high human and financial costs of war - Al Jazeera English
The frighteningly high human and financial costs of war - Al Jazeera English
Study: over last 15 yrs, US military conflicts
-cost $13 trillion
-claimed 600,000 lives
-created 7 million refugees
Study: over last 15 yrs, US military conflicts
-cost $13 trillion
-claimed 600,000 lives
-created 7 million refugees
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
Monday, October 10, 2016
Friday, October 7, 2016
from PECULIAR YOU
The
twilight sad. Untitled #27. Untitled #28
Walking
for two hours. I'm taking the train home
Forget the night ahead. Seven years of letters
Made to disappear. Reflection of the television
Scissors. The neighbours can't breathe. That room
That birthday present. Interrupted. At the burnside
Cold
days from the birdhouse. Fourteen Autumns and fifteen
Winters.
The weather is bad. I was hoping the winter was
Over.
That summer, at home I had become the invisible boy
The
wrong car. Throw yourself into the water again
And
she would darken the memory. I became a prostitute
Last year's rain didn't fall quite so hard. Mapped
By what surrounded themselves. Talking with
Fireworks/ Here, it never snowed. Afterwards it did
Now he was sitting on the limb of a tree and he said, “You, go get it!”
One
leg of a journey might be shaped.
To
double.
Like
women.
…
Diary
As
soon as the stuff is solidly attached, it begins to bud.
He
left his wife and that's the end of it.
Folding
paper wastebaskets.
An
aim, object, purpose, or intention.
No
smoking.
None
of that other stuff.
Or
would have if we had done the right thing.
A
container for papers.
This
may take you know what I mean in many of those things, dividing at
this thing or budding from that or those things, till the main thing
is surrounded by a something or other of things like itself, of which
the something or other, and which now begin to bud in their thing,
each one surrounding itself with something numerous, all remaining,
however, attached to the main thing.
An
outcome, result, upshot or consequence.
Nickel
ash trays or nut dishes.
….
The
something-shaped thing of the little ones crowded upon that other
thing of these marks the whatever it marks of each more or less
isolated or the other in such a thing as we have here.
– Bernadette
Mayer, Story
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
Monday, October 3, 2016
Sunday, October 2, 2016
What should I say,
Since faith is dead,
And truth away
From you is fled?
Should I be led
With doubleness?
Nay, nay, mistress!
I promised you,
And you promised me,
To be as true
As I would be.
But since I see
Your double heart,
Farewell my part!
Though for to take
It is not my mind,
But to forsake
But since I see
Your double heart,
Farewell my part!
Though for to take
It is not my mind,
But to forsake
[One so unkind]
And as I find,
So will I trust:
Farewell, unjust!
Can ye say nay?
But you said
That I alway
Should be obeyed?
And thus betrayed
Or that I wiste --
Farewell, unkissed.
-- Sir Thomas Wyatt
And as I find,
So will I trust:
Farewell, unjust!
Can ye say nay?
But you said
That I alway
Should be obeyed?
And thus betrayed
Or that I wiste --
Farewell, unkissed.
-- Sir Thomas Wyatt
What should I say,
Since faith is dead,
And truth away
From you is fled?
Should I be led
With doubleness?
Nay, nay, mistress!
I promised you,
And you promised me,
To be as true
As I would be.
But since I see
Your double heart,
Farewell my part!
Though for to take
It is not my mind,
But to forsake
But since I see
Your double heart,
Farewell my part!
Though for to take
It is not my mind,
But to forsake
[One so unkind]
And as I find,
So will I trust:
Farewell, unjust!
Can ye say nay?
But you said
That I alway
Should be obeyed?
And thus betrayed
Or that I wiste --
Farewell, unkissed.
-- Sir Thomas Wyatt
And as I find,
So will I trust:
Farewell, unjust!
Can ye say nay?
But you said
That I alway
Should be obeyed?
And thus betrayed
Or that I wiste --
Farewell, unkissed.
-- Sir Thomas Wyatt
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Friday, September 30, 2016
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Wittgenstein's Beetle in a Box Analogy - YouTube
Sometimes I feel like a beetle in Wittgenstein's box.
Wittgenstein's Beetle in a Box Analogy - YouTube
The
great Iranian piano
and daf
player:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_H9oEQU5Tc&list=PLUjNc-EtILEWEi0z_YVkQap7XOkn6Ol0K
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Fifty
years ago, the Indonesian military began a savage
counterrevolutionary campaign against the country's Communist Party,
leading to the murder of hundreds of thousands in a country that had,
until that point, had the largest non-ruling Communist Party in the
world, with more than 1 million members. The genocidal war on the
communists was carried out with support of the U.S. government and
its allies, amid the Cold War conflict with the former USSR. The
slaughter of the communists also led to the downfall of Indonesian
President Sukarno and the beginning of the rule of the military
dictator Suharto.
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
note on 'Word on measure' from Stephen Jonas
"Expanding 'word on measure' to include sometime that's 'prose' but not always -- which is the dream be it super or economy minded and or where as I could go on in the head and make this thing's head a poem but I had it down before a sort of long hand job you see I type them after I do them the first time....."
-- Stephen Jonas, Selected Poems, ed. Joseph Torra, pp. 110-11.
-- Stephen Jonas, Selected Poems, ed. Joseph Torra, pp. 110-11.
Monday, September 26, 2016
MOSQUITO COAST, from SEAP
MOSQUITO COAST
Ice is civilization
I want to show those
People something about neighborliness
(Between a ford and a river
In a stream)
You never know
Who will become your client
Can you get us out of here
What do you do when the line is cut
Inalienable rights made right
Hold on Thelma (Butterfly) McQueen
Dead things go downstream
Vision has its place here
That's policy
But this isn't the jungle
Dad
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
When
Schoenberg told John Cage that he couldn't pursue his current path
and that he would hit his head against a wall, Cage replied that he
would proceed even if it meant he must hit his head against that
wall. "Would
you like to join a society called Capitalists Inc.? (Just so no one
would think we were Communists.) Anyone joining automatically becomes
president. To join you must show you've destroyed at least one
hundred records..."
- John Cage, Lecture on Nothing, 1949. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9YHdTNnwMM
Monday, September 19, 2016
Claudio Arrau - Chopin Fantasie Impromptu opus 66 - YouTube
Claudio Arrau - Chopin Fantasie Impromptu opus 66 - YouTube
One of fave pianists: puts the romantics into passionate overdrive, as only a Chilean-in-Germany could.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Man Stroke Woman - BLUE!!! with subtitles - YouTube
Man Stroke Woman - BLUE!!! with subtitles - YouTube
#socialjustice
#octoberisdomesticabuseawarenessmonth
#socialjustice
#octoberisdomesticabuseawarenessmonth
“The development of the proletarian elite does not take place in an academic setting. Rather, it is brought about by battles in the factories and unions, by disciplinary punishments and some very dirty fights within the parties and outside of them, by jail sentences and illegality. Students do not flock in large numbers there as they do to the lecture halls and laboratories of the bourgeoisie. The career of a revolutionary does not consists of banquets and honarary titles, of interesting research projects and professional salaries; more likely, it will acquaint them with misery, dishonory and jail and, at the end, uncertainty. These conditions are made bearable only by a super-human faith. Understandably, this way of life will not be the choice of those who are nothing more than clever.” ― Max Horkheimer
Friday, September 16, 2016
“If some kind of sanity is something we want but secretly do not desire in our erotic lives, it is because sanity keeps us in the realm of the already known. Living within our means, living with a realistic sense of our limitations, is at odds with our experience of sexual desire. The love stories that have taught us how to love (such as Romeo and Juliet) are more about risk than complacency, about the ways in which desire takes people out of themselves and into a new life that feels like more life than any they have ever had before. The sanity lost in the madness of love is the sanity of knowing who one is. Only a culture that believes people could and should know themselves would have a use for the idea of sanity, because sanity is nothing if not the capacity and talent for self-recognition. But how does the self-knowing self recognize anything new about the self? To know one’s limits is to limit oneself to the self that one knows. So, sanity also always describes the familiarity we have with ourselves that we use for protection against catastrophic change. If it is part of our sanity to know ourselves, we have to ensure that what we know keeps us sane.” Adam Phillips, Going Sane: Maps of Happiness, Fourth Estate, 2005, p. 117.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmpJkIiFEGk
“If Napoleon had grasped Beethoven,” Egon Friedell concluded in his cultural history of the modern age, “Europe might have a different face today.” As the philosopher Ernst Bloch says in his book The Principle of Hope, “Every future storming of the Bastille is intended in Fidelio.” In his review of the London première in 1832, Thomas Love Peacock provided a rough outline of the feelings successively put forth in this opera as a sort of subliminal language from which ideas emerge as sounds.
“If Napoleon had grasped Beethoven,” Egon Friedell concluded in his cultural history of the modern age, “Europe might have a different face today.” As the philosopher Ernst Bloch says in his book The Principle of Hope, “Every future storming of the Bastille is intended in Fidelio.” In his review of the London première in 1832, Thomas Love Peacock provided a rough outline of the feelings successively put forth in this opera as a sort of subliminal language from which ideas emerge as sounds.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Monday, September 12, 2016
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Saturday, September 10, 2016
“The fundamentalist of Western capitalism, just like the more ostensibly religious fundamentalists that we hear more about, really believe that the only good life is one in which the enemy, the dissenters, the unpersuaded, are no longer part of the conversation; a world without communists, a world without Jews, a world without unbelievers, is the world as it should be. Those of us who are not drawn to what is loosely, and not so loosely, called fundamentalism; those of us who don’t want to be fundamentalist in a war against the fundamentalisms, have a very serious problem.” Adam Phillips, On Balance, NY: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010, pp. 79-80.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
“When one goes at ideas directly, with hammer and tongs as it were, ideas tend to elude one in a poem. I think they only back in when one pretends not to be paying any attention to them, like a cat that will rub against your leg.” John Ashbery, Interview in What Is Poetry: Conversations with the American Avant-Garde, ed. Daniel Kane, NY: Teachers & Writers Books, 2003, p. 32.
Monday, September 5, 2016
Sunday, September 4, 2016
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Friday, September 2, 2016
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Stop! In the name. from 'PTSD notebooks'
The word's not worth the word, my love. Aye
The rub: the word, my love, if it's sealed it isn't
Empty. Simple. The word's perhaps. Period.
Perhaps not even perhaps. Sure, the word's not worth
Trouble, not yours for sure, but the trouble doesn't exist.
Let's pretend the purest illusion is this self-belying word –
But illusion doesn't exist and the word is not love –
And we wander nightly in the heat of snapping palms.
Even as you go on betraying the word I love, cursing it
With damaging say-so, eye it, my love; the rub suggests
Something sealed, simple; when it comes down to it
Nothing other than acceptance; nothing pushed; no void
Exposed. Come now and let's pretend the word's worth love
Please leave it to others, my love, for all want's consuming.
Untitled, from the 'PTSD notebooks'
The cold penny brings the word disc closer
Then moon's penance, all bunk and no blank
The hill's oily nose-ring patrols; scarlet
Bloodsuckers stash the lighters as Braxton
Bent the tree lime. As night comes, it is clear
You want contact but only when contact without
Contact. And my headache is a craving-in
Get me a Battle Smurf or at least once and for all
Tell Her damnit where the yellow jackets hang
Bellow as beyond. Bed and bath throttled in rage
Later, sucking yawns, waiting for the Barbies
To return the fairy scent of slave-owning love
The piss of yanked night in striated rooms
Suggests will cannot wait up but waits for you
Untitled, from 'PTSD notebooks'
Am I wrong to hear the wren or wait, sliding each
Effort at harm into the past of all cerebration
You might have dropped me in? If I could only be
In-law, like, small enough. If I could respond or else
Learn to become those thoughts held back: I froze
Down blind to you sweeping me incertain
The deep night's never blue. The sigh-in
About conditional life trips over the weft of each
Wasted contemplation. Were I out of doors
Where wolves fear no swift autumn infamy
And not nested dark halted by the bent control
Of closet-rooms that silence no coming bomb
Self's certain there's courage without changing that
Other night of the wren to be saddled grey in harm
Untitled, from the 'PTSD notebooks'
Silence charges, exchanges. Many hands lead away
From sealed-off windows of a poignant dawn
In words other than substance; else you had
To have having-it-all to stand it better than this
Fast toes tonguing in the detergent aisle
Moon, she's strung-out so long it roots detectables
Rakes the fearful cold into marriage with embers
Stale therapy in ear shot rush to make it (better than this)
Thy shifters were all untrue. Winch-like trees scream
Some witchy needle-pinch out to get you, up too late
In the wasted a.m., or else hands wither in the manic rinse
Small birds, scaled back, low scream of unwashable ice
Nothing to do with weathering the apparent burst
But strapped short of the whelm held back better than this
Chromatic Leavings, from the 'PTSD notebooks'
Chromatic Leavings
This place's no palace. A law of snakesong spun
Wild shade bringing scent to assuming/ nothing
As ancient as an arm pushed to the bathroom wall
The locks turned loose in rapid sky. Gladly, I
Mete in stays, hang in, and raise your salts until
Its early flowers. Where your hair lights horns
The exact shade of sand leaves. On a limb and
When the moon is a matching sepia stern. You
Press and press heavy prints in the morning panic
Room, wait up all music. Such hours colour hurt
As you are as sandstone as whet. There has
To be calm during, calm after, the whole misspen
-Ding so semblances segregate true cost from
All richness the moon has tuned to our room
Untitled, from 'PTSD notebooks'
Sin upon placeholders is anthropic. Think
I won't change my shirt to my devices
The soup's up, sweetheart. Waiting for collapse
Love is a madness shrunk to spit the locks
The bean hand is lasted. In flashier skin
Hostess swirls divert my blurt. I fling up
Dreams to dawn in marriage partition
You crave the say-so of a One-Woman
One-Count Bloc but are covered in skin
Waiting for the lapse as a whale wants fin
A bent style of almost/yet pulls in at the knees
Or I can hear my gift to you for miles
There is kind of a safe distance but it's a safe
Distance within this stronghold you butt to shreds
Panic Webbing, from the 'PTSD notebooks'
Panic Webbing
In a forest of decimals thinly
All alcoves and animals play
I'm browsing but you're plotting
There lives a dot to another's pay
Try me. The home entertainment sutured
To hewn lunacy. You never wonder
Where the smudges on my glasses might go
They thrive and dine in the milk made handle
Thinking's day as separate as it is cold
Today, peevish peaches rumoured away
Dry as in some weedy bedding sundowned
Flagon that and try a discount window
Well-written like welding to a point nerve
The hawk's lost in plastic and dinner's served
Monday, August 22, 2016
Friday, August 19, 2016
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Monday, August 8, 2016
Mahler: Adagio from Symphony no. 10 (Cleveland Orchestra, Boulez) - YouTube
Mahler: Adagio from Symphony no. 10 (Cleveland Orchestra, Boulez) - YouTube
The visit to Freud was one way of working through the crisis partly sparked by his wife's infidelities; the other was the Tenth Symphony. Mahler covered the pages of its manuscript with tortured outcries - "Madness, seize me, the accursed! Negate me, so I forget that I exist, that I may cease to be!", or "To live for you! To die for you!", and even the dedication of the love song at the heart of the Symphony's finale to his wife, using an affectionate form of her name, "Almschi!" Alma stayed with Mahler during his final illness, accompanying him from New York to Paris to Vienna, where he died of a blood infection on May 18, 1911.
The visit to Freud was one way of working through the crisis partly sparked by his wife's infidelities; the other was the Tenth Symphony. Mahler covered the pages of its manuscript with tortured outcries - "Madness, seize me, the accursed! Negate me, so I forget that I exist, that I may cease to be!", or "To live for you! To die for you!", and even the dedication of the love song at the heart of the Symphony's finale to his wife, using an affectionate form of her name, "Almschi!" Alma stayed with Mahler during his final illness, accompanying him from New York to Paris to Vienna, where he died of a blood infection on May 18, 1911.
Marilyn Horne " Liebst du um Schönheit" Mahler - YouTube
Marilyn Horne " Liebst du um Schönheit" Mahler - YouTube
Few songs just 'sound like' a composer in the process of falling in love.
Liebst du um Schönheit,
O nicht mich liebe!
Liebe die Sonne,
Sie trägt ein gold'nes Haar!
Liebst du um Jugend,
O nicht mich liebe!
Liebe den Frühling,
Der jung ist jedes Jahr!
Liebst du um Schätze,
O nicht mich liebe.
Liebe die Meerfrau,
[Die]1 hat viel Perlen klar.
Liebst du um Liebe,
O ja, mich liebe!
Liebe mich immer,
Dich lieb' ich immerdar.
If you love for beauty,
Oh do not love me!
Love the sun,
It has gold hair!
If you love for youth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the spring-time
That is young each year!
If you love for wealth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the mermaid,
[Who]1 has many limpid pearls!
If you love for love,
Oh yes, love me!
Love me forever;
I will love you forevermore!
Few songs just 'sound like' a composer in the process of falling in love.
Liebst du um Schönheit,
O nicht mich liebe!
Liebe die Sonne,
Sie trägt ein gold'nes Haar!
Liebst du um Jugend,
O nicht mich liebe!
Liebe den Frühling,
Der jung ist jedes Jahr!
Liebst du um Schätze,
O nicht mich liebe.
Liebe die Meerfrau,
[Die]1 hat viel Perlen klar.
Liebst du um Liebe,
O ja, mich liebe!
Liebe mich immer,
Dich lieb' ich immerdar.
If you love for beauty,
Oh do not love me!
Love the sun,
It has gold hair!
If you love for youth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the spring-time
That is young each year!
If you love for wealth,
Oh do not love me!
Love the mermaid,
[Who]1 has many limpid pearls!
If you love for love,
Oh yes, love me!
Love me forever;
I will love you forevermore!
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Counting On i.m. r.c.
Counting On
i.m. r.c.
The beach feels hot under our feet
turning us inside and out.
To be with you is to be without you:
you stay the same, always different.
Filling with sand, wipe-outs,
prolific shoots, location shots,
I had thought to sleep meant to dream,
to wake to take everything for the worse.
Outside the mechanics, outside the grind,
the venture in wanting long life.
For now you touch, are touched —
prove everything exists by measures
To be with you is to be without you:
you stay the same, always different.
Filling with sand, wipe-outs,
prolific shoots, location shots,
I had thought to sleep meant to dream,
to wake to take everything for the worse.
Outside the mechanics, outside the grind,
the venture in wanting long life.
For now you touch, are touched —
prove everything exists by measures
taken in or out the sea —
and the long sweep wavering
suddenly seems half the stretch
we are keeping to ourselves.
Come further inshore. Ensure —
gesture and delay.
and the long sweep wavering
suddenly seems half the stretch
we are keeping to ourselves.
Come further inshore. Ensure —
gesture and delay.
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