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Intellectual disgrace
Stares from every human face,
And the seas of pity lie
Locked and frozen in each eye.
Follow, poet, follow right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice.
With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress.
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountains start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.
– – WH Auden
Sometimes it seems I had a dream, and, as a dreamer woke immersed in mineral baths closed within a cool, dark chamber fed by streams flowing in from the center of nowhere.
Hanging from the granite ceiling a kerosene lantern cast shards of light through the pale steam rising from the surface of the pools.
Ripples radiated outwards from the edges of my body and tapping faintly on the rock revealed the edges of the chamber.
Outside I could hear the wind slide across the spine of the mountains, speaking in a language that I remembered but could no longer understand.
Steam filled my nostrils and heat penetrated my bones until, after a time, I had no body, only a sense of silence and distance and calm.
As if I had just woken from all water into dream.
— Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, 1973
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The steel mill sky is alive.
The fire breaks white and zigzag
shot on a gun-metal gloaming.
Man is a long time coming.
Man will yet win.
Brother may yet line up with brother:
This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.
There are men who can’t be bought.
The fireborn are at home in fire.
The stars make no noise,
You can’t hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?
In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.
In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people
march:
“Where to? what next?”
— Carl Sandberg
Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat, after five days rain
Pitch glows on the fir-cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.
I cannot remember things I once read
A few friends, but they are in cities.
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.
BY GARY SNYDER
Starry-eyed an’ laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time an’ we watched with one last look
Spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
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That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
– – W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
Sometimes it seems I had a dream, and, as a dreamer woke immersed in mineral baths closed within a cool, dark chamber fed by streams flowing in from the center of nowhere.
Hanging from the granite ceiling a kerosene lantern cast shards of light through the pale steam rising from the surface of the pools.
Ripples radiated outwards from the edges of my body and tapping faintly on the rock revealed the edges of the chamber.
Outside I could hear the wind slide across the spine of the mountains, speaking in a language that I remembered but could no longer understand.
Steam filled my nostrils and heat penetrated my bones until, after a time, I had no body, only a sense of silence and distance and calm.
As if I had just woken from all water into dream.
— Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, 1973
Comments on this entry are closed.
“a total nut removal” LMAO- jeez I had to cross my legs…
>8)~
complete disclosure: I worked as a proofreader for Mars.
At long last there is a candy for the sexually depraved! M&Ms have become Pete Buttigieg’s second favorite thing to put into his mouth.
More confirmation that M&Ms are just “an edible technological trinket.”
I quit at 29 seconds. Immediately after the phrase, “the people at Mars Candy weren’t bad people. they were just ignorant.” ugh.
M&M’s have now been added to my list of companies I will no longer patronize.
“M&M’s have now been added to my list of companies I will no longer patronize.”
Ditto that.
Thanks for the heads-up, I won’t bother to view it. Probably meant to be “cute”, but it only serves to further divide. Oh, and I can almost hear the plaintiff cry of the perpetually ass-chapped, “Lighten-up! It’s just a joke!”
Hahahaha! I know right. I’m right there with ya but I looked. It’s stupid and you aren’t missing anything. It’s gay shit.
Oh I’m so outraged. I just can’t….Oh, the umbrage. Oh, the indignity, the effrontery. Oh, my, get out of the way please, Oh it’s the worst catastrophe, the smoke and flames, crashing to the ground. I can’t talk, ladies and gentlemen, all the smoke and wreckage. I can hardly breathe. Oh, the humidity.
(Did anybody else see this was a satire from the Babylon Bee? )
Yes, but not immediately. The Babylon Bee has become America’s newspaper of note. Because of the astounding and ridiculous farce that America’s culture and politics have become, it is difficult to separate the Bee from reality. They are becoming one and the same. It is now CNN that is the farce, and the Bee that reflects the real world.
It’s true.
Good catch, Aggie.
I didn’t notice that it was the BB. Those folks are doing some serious parody….it is so good that it seems like real news!
Man those folks been working overtime,,,,,trying hard to remain relevant, I listen to their music, not their bullshit opinions.
I must be a masochist, I knew what was coming but still watched the whole DAMNED thing. It’s impossible anymore to have believed, even ten years ago, that millions of Americans would start falling for these mega-tons of bullshit.
Just remember it isn’t aimed at you. It’s the kids.
Never cared for them, found them mostly flavorless.
That was a sadly funny satire.
Next satire should probably be about candies and pastries with “creme filled centers,” or how “fudge is packed” in containers, and how it offends the LGBTPXYZ crowd.
You are heartless with your side remark about Joni Mitchell. I had to laugh.
She is one of my favorite musicians/singers, but I never worried about her politics, even now. I must have 10 of her CDs. I play them repeatedly. I also play a lot of Nina Simone and I hated her politics too.
I don’t pay attention to what musicians, actors–any celebrity–have to say outside of their real talent.
Sorry, posted to wrong thread.