“Trump makes one believe for a moment in the American dream again.”
Next post: The Japanese: Nuked Too Much or…. (I rest my case.)
Previous post: Let’s Review 23: Winterset
He thought he kept the universe alone;
For all the voice in answer he could wake
Was but the mocking echo of his own
From some tree-hidden cliff across the lake.
Some morning from the boulder-broken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it wants
Is not its own love back in copy speech,
But counter-love, original response.
And nothing ever came of what he cried
Unless it was the embodiment that crashed
In the cliff’s talus on the other side,
And then in the far distant water splashed,
But after a time allowed for it to swim,
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread,
And forced the underbrush–and that was all.
When all Earth’s seas shall Levitate,
Dark shawled within the skies,
Upon our eyes will Starfish dance
Their waltz of Blind surprise.
The sun will Rise within wine Dark
As Argonauts imbibed,
Whose drunken arms embrace that sleep
Where Phaeton’s horses Stride.
Upon all of Earth’s wind-sanded shores,
As dolphins Learn to soar,
All we once were on the land
Shall be sealed behind the door
Of Ivory and Chastened Gold,
That the Mystery solved complete
Shall never til the seas’ Long fall
Wake mariners from their sleep.
— Van der Leun
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
— The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
Kansas was underrated. Somehow they got lumped in with arena rock bands. But the critics’ disdain was really just an early manifestation of the coastal elites’ contempt for flyover country and anything cultural that it produced.
Sorry about that. Moved Kansas to the next post up. Didn’t want to duplicate.
The only thing you can count of from the american communists is the enormous volume of their lies.
Really, lying is the base of their entire operation, and that includes all the siblings like deceptions, double talk, misspeaks, diversions, false accusations, and all around fakeness.
They, the american communists, are a disadvantage to others so if you were the king of the world what would you do with them?
Mass murder?
Caged?
Banished to an island 5000 miles away with satellite surveillance and no supplies?
Or just cut them off from ALL gov’t services, tax them at double the normal rate, and prevent them from voting and possessing blades and firearms?
I tell young people that when they were born in America they hit the jackpot. It is up to them what they do with the winnings. President Trump keeps making that jackpot bigger.
“I tell young people that when they were born in America they hit the jackpot. It is up to them what they do with the winnings.”
===================
Excellent, I’m stealin’ that!