Sunday, December 30, 2012

literacki

Hommage to They Live!
A horse hair falls into the water and grows into an eel.
Even Aristotle believed that frogs
formed from mud,
that mice sprouted like seedlings in the damp hay.


I used to believe the world spoke
in code. I lay awake
and tried to parse the flashes of the streetlight—
obscured, revealed,
obscured by the wind-sprung tree.
Stranded with you at the Ferris wheel's apogee
I learned the physics
of desire—fixed at the center,
it spins and goes nowhere.


Pliny described eight-foot lobsters
sunning themselves
on the banks of the Ganges. The cuckoo devouring
its foster mother. Bees alighting
on Plato's young lips.


In the Andes, a lake disappears overnight, sucked
through cracks in the earth.
How can I explain
the sunlight stippling your face in the early morning?


Why not believe that the eye throws its own light,
that seeing illuminates
the world?
On the moon,
astronaut David Scott drops a hammer and a falcon feather,
and we learn nothing
we didn't already know.

~Ancient Theories
by Nick Lantz

ars poetica

 

The Barefoot Contessa - Joseph L. Mankiewicz
Le soleil, sur le sable, ô lutteuse endormie,
En l'or de tes cheveux chauffe un bain langoureux
Et, consumant l'encens sur ta joue ennemie,
Il mêle avec les pleurs un breuvage amoureux.

De ce blanc Flamboiement l'immuable accalmie
T'a fait dire, attristée, ô mes baisers peureux,
« Nous ne serons jamais une seule momie
Sous l'antique désert et les palmiers heureux! »

Mais ta chevelure est une rivière tiède,
Où noyer sans frissons l'âme qui nous obsède
Et trouver ce Néant que tu ne connais pas.

Je goûterai le fard pleuré par tes paupières,
Pour voir s'il sait donner au coeur que tu frappas
L'insensibilité de l'azur et des pierres.



~ Tristesse d'été ~Stéphane Mallarmé

literacki


"I know myself only insofar as I am inherent in time and in the world, that is, I know myself only in ambiguity."
— Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Phenomenology of Perception

quoth the madman

Have a nice End of the World ...
"I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."
— Pablo Neruda

literacki


We were resigned to suffering, thinking that we loved outside ourselves, and we perceive that our love is a function of our sorrow, that our love perhaps is our sorrow…
~Marcel Proust, La Captive

literacki


There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever really existed or that our species ever did anything at all. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.
~John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

ars poetica

who would believe them winged
who would believe they could be
beautiful who would believe
they could fall so in love with mortals
that they would attach themselves
as scars attach and ride the skin
sometimes we hear them in our dreams
rattling their skulls clicking their bony fingers
envying our crackling hair
our spice filled flesh
they have heard me beseeching
as I whispered into my own
cupped hands enough not me again
enough but who can distinguish
one human voice
amid such choruses of desire
~Sorrows by Lucille Clifton

Monday, December 17, 2012

quoth the madman

"How do I integrate spirituality into my everyday life?
Throw out the concept of “spiritual life” and “everyday life.”
There is only life, undivided and whole.
~Adyashanti

quoth the madman

Original photo from http://fuckyeahvictorians.tumblr.com/
"Melancholy redeems this universe, and yet it is melancholy that separates us from it."
— E. M. Cioran

literacki

Oslo, 31.  august - Joachim Trier
The simplicity of winter has a deep moral. The return of nature, after such a career of splendor and prodigality, to habits so simple and austere, is not lost either upon the head or the heart. It is the philosopher coming back from the banquet and the wine to a cup of water and a crust of bread.
John Burroughs, Winter Sunshine

quoth the madman

Solar Tempest
لصَّمْتُ بَابٌ مِنْ أَبْوَابِ الحِكْمَةِ، وَإنَّهُ دَلِيلٌ عَلَي‌ كُلِّ خَيْرٍ
Silence is a door from among the doors of wisdom, and it is indeed the guide to all goodness.
 - Imam al Ridha (ع)

quoth the madman

 Let’s play everywhere…
Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found.
Pema Chödrön

quoth the madman


Surprise !
Waste no more time talking about great souls
and how they should be.
Become one yourself
~Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

dialog

Pinky.
All my life I’ve been searching, wondering, talking without meaning or context. It has been nothing. Yes, I say this without bitterness or self-reproach, as I know that almost all of people’s lives are made this way. My heart is empty. And emptiness is a mirror turned to my own face. I see myself and am seized with disgust and fear. Through my indifference for people, I’ve been placed outside of their society. Now I live in a ghost world, enclosed in my dreams and imaginings.
The Seventh Seal, dir. by Ingmar Bergman, 1957.

quoth the madman

Fuck, this rocks!
You should therefore cease from practice based on intellectual understanding, pursuing words and following after speech, and learn the backward step that turns your light inwardly to illuminate your self. Body and mind of themselves will drop away, and your original face will be manifest. If you want to attain suchness, you should practice suchness without delay.
~Zen Master Dogen

quoth the madman

Drink, asshole, drink it all!  (Source unknown)
Close some doors today. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because they lead you nowhere.
~Paulo Coelho

literacki

Signal
The lesson which life repeats and constantly enforces is “look under foot.” You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of your power than you think. The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are. Do not despise your own place and hour. Every place is under the stars, every place is the centre of the world.
John Burroughs, The Writings of John Burroughs: Leaf and Tendril

quoth the madman

Can’t keep a good man down.
The sentence “I have something” […] implies that the subject is permanent and the object is permanent. But is there permanence in the subject? Or in the object? I shall die; I may lose the social position that guarantees my having something. The object is similarly not permanent: it can be destroyed, or it can be lost, or it can lose its value. Speaking of having something permanently rests upon the illusion of a permanent and indestructible substance. If I seem to have everything, I have – in reality – nothing, since my having, possessing, controlling an object is only a transitory moment in the process of living.
~Erich Fromm, To Have or to Be?

quoth the madman


The real struggle…is about you: you, a person who has to learn to live in the real world, to inhabit her own skin, to know her own heart, to stop waiting for her life to begin.
~Caroline Knapp

quoth the madman


Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be.
~Kurt Vonnegut

quoth the madman

Roast Your Nuts
As Seneca understood, to free yourself from fear you must work backward. You start with the thought of your mortality. You accept and embrace this reality. You think ahead to the inevitable moment of your death and determine to face it as bravely as possible. The more you contemplate your mortality, the less you fear it—it becomes a fact you no longer have to repress. By following this path, you know how to die well, and so you can now begin to teach yourself to live well. You will not cling to things unnecessarily. You will be strong and self-reliant, unafraid to be alone. You will have a certain lightness that comes with knowing what matters—you can laugh at what others take so seriously. The pleasures of the moment are heightened because you know their impermanence and you make the most of them. And when your time to die comes, as it will some day, you will not cringe and cry for more time, because you have lived well and have no regrets.
~Robert Greene

Monday, December 3, 2012

quoth the madman


What a gulf between impression and expression!
That’s our ironic fate – to have Shakespearean feelings and to talk about them like automobile salesmen or teenagers or college professors. We practice alchemy in reverse – touch gold and it turns into lead; touch the pure lyrics of experience, and they turn into the verbal equivalents of tripe and hogwash.
~Aldous Huxley

literacki

via
It is hard going to the door
cut so small in the wall where
the vision which echoes loneliness  
brings a scent of wild flowers in a wood.
What I understood, I understand.
My mind is sometime torment,  
sometimes good and filled with livelihood,  
and feels the ground.
But I see the door,
and knew the wall, and wanted the wood,  
and would get there if I could
with my feet and hands and mind.
Lady, do not banish me  
for digressions. My nature  
is a quagmire of unresolved  
confessions. Lady, I follow.
I walked away from myself,
I left the room, I found the garden,
I knew the woman
in it, together we lay down.
Dead night remembers. In December  
we change, not multiplied but dispersed,
sneaked out of childhood,
the ritual of dismemberment.
Mighty magic is a mother,
in her there is another issue
of fixture, repeated form, the race renewal,  
the charge of the command.
The garden echoes across the room.  
It is fixed in the wall like a mirror  
that faces a window behind you  
and reflects the shadows.
May I go now?
Am I allowed to bow myself down
in the ridiculous posture of renewal,
of the insistence of which I am the virtue?
Nothing for You is untoward.  
Inside You would also be tall,  
more tall, more beautiful.
Come toward me from the wall, I want to be with You.
So I screamed to You,
ho hears as the wind, and changes  
multiply, invariably,
changes in the mind.
Running to the door, I ran down
as a clock runs down. Walked backwards,  
stumbled, sat down
hard on the floor near the wall.
Where were You.
How absurd, how vicious.
There is nothing to do but get up.
My knees were iron, I rusted in worship, of You.
For that one sings, one
writes the spring poem, one goes on walking.
The Lady has always moved to the next town  
and you stumble on after Her.
The door in the wall leads to the garden  
where in the sunlight sit
the Graces in long Victorian dresses,  
of which my grandmother had spoken.
History sings in their faces.
They are young, they are obtainable,  
and you follow after them also
in the service of God and Truth.
But the Lady is indefinable,  
she will be the door in the wall  
to the garden in sunlight.
I will go on talking forever.
I will never get there.
Oh Lady, remember me
who in Your service grows older
not wiser, no more than before.
How can I die alone.
Where will I be then who am now alone,
what groans so pathetically
in this room where I am alone?
I will go to the garden.
I will be a romantic. I will sell
myself in hell,
in heaven also I will be.
In my mind I see the door,
I see the sunlight before me across the floor
beckon to me, as the Lady’s skirt
moves small beyond it.

Robert Creeley,  “The Door

quoth the madman


Usually when we hear or read something new, we just compare it to our own ideas. If it is the same, we accept it and say that it is correct. If it is not, we say it is incorrect. In either case, we learn nothing.
~Thich Nhat Hanh

quoth the madman


Knowledge is like the ‘snake of eternity’, constantly eating itself and never finishing.
~Austin Osman Spare

literacki


There is no death in the womb that nurtures us, but the desert does not forgive anyone who betrays her. He does not merely die an alien’s death but also lives miserably…his entire life becomes a desert.
Ibrahim al-Koni, The Seven Veils of Seth

quoth the madman


You have projected onto yourself
a world of your own imagination,
based on memories, on desires and fears,
and you have imprisoned yourself in it.
Break the spell and be free.

~Nisargadatta Maharaj

literacki


In fact, God is ‘Nothing.’ Erigena knew that this sounded shocking and he warned his reader not to be afraid. His method was devised to remind us that God is not an object; he does not possess ‘being’ in any sense that we can comprehend. God is ‘He who is more than being’ (aliquo modo supersesse). His mode of existence is as different from ours as our being is from an animal’s and an animal’s is from a rock. But if God is ‘Nothing,’ he is also ‘Everything’ because this ‘super-existence’ means that God alone has true being; he is the essence of everything that partakes of this. Every one of his creatures, therefore, is a theophany, a sign of God’s presence.
Karen Armstrong, A History of God, ”The God of the Philosophers”

ars poetica

ancient-serpent:

L’inferno (1911)















I used to wonder
About living and dying—
I think the difference lies
Between tears and crying.


I used to wonder
About here and there—
I think the distance
Is nowhere.


~Langston Hughes 
 

film


quoth the madman

(via imgTumble)
I’ve begun to learn to become accustomed to change. I know that I will never find peace until I learn to accept that nothing is forever & nothing is certain. Change happens and instead of allowing it to affect my emotions negatively I should take everything as it is and continue living on. The universe sometimes sends me challenges that I do not want, but that I need.I am becoming a better me, not changing myself or becoming a different person.. I’m looking into myself and instead of following the social norm I’m doing what makes me happy, & loving every part of it. All is well in my fortress of solitude & it will continue to be as long as I keep this mind state.
Where the light is brightest, the shadows are deepest.
~Goethe

literacki


"We were resigned to suffering, thinking that we loved outside ourselves, and we perceive that our love is a function of our sorrow, that our love perhaps is our sorrow…"
— Marcel Proust, La Captive

Saturday, December 1, 2012

ars poetica

“Oh where are you going with your love-locks flowing
On the west wind blowing along this valley track?”
 
“The downhill path is easy, come with me an it please ye,
We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.”
 
So they two went together in glowing August weather,
The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right;
And dear she was to dote on, her swift feet seemed to float on
The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight.
 
“Oh what is that in heaven where gray cloud-flakes are seven,
Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?” 
 
“Oh that’s a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,
An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.”
 
“Oh what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly,
Their scent comes rich and sickly?”—

“A scaled and hooded worm.”
“Oh what’s that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?”
“Oh that’s a thin dead body which waits the eternal term.”
 
“Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again, false and fleetest:
This beaten way thou beatest I fear is hell’s own track.”
 
“Nay, too steep for hill-mounting; nay, too late for cost-counting:
This downhill path is easy, but there’s no turning back.”
 
Amor Mundi By Christina Rossetti 1830–1894

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

literacki

source: http://vimeo.com/5676816
"After the bones — those flowers — this was found in the urn:
The lost river, ashes from the ghat, even the rain.
What was I to prophesy if not the end of the world?
A salt pillar for the lonely lot, even the rain."
— Agha Shahid Ali, from “Even the Rain” in Call Me Ishmael Tonight: A Book of Ghazals

ars poetica

Easter Parade - Charles Walters
"To sing the beloved is one thing, another, oh,
that hidden guilty river-god of the blood."
— Rainer Maria Rilke, Duino Elegies

ars poetica

Breathing in, I breathe the skin of trees,  
the husk of rocky kernels cracking,  
slagging off the shroud of centuries.
Into my lungs, a stream of atoms comes:
bits of Rome, bung-hole fillers—that
mighty Alexander, the scarce-bearded Caesar!
I am all that I am not, and I am not
what I shall become—who knows?
Not I, and the less I know
the further I fly, thistle-downed,
through golden-light unleafing, the grassy
blade, plucked up to make a crowing caw.
Breathing out, I breathe these latest words,
the cells of heart and lung in every vowel,
flittering pulse of inner ear,
trail of dust and ink.
~Key of Dust by Joyce Sutphen b. 1949

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

literacki

marcedith:

…En avant la musique (Segundo de Chomón, 1907)…
"Something unpronounceable followed by a long silence points out my life is becoming a landscape."
— Mary Ruefle, The Adamant

words and lyrics


I stood accused and guilty of many crimes
I went and burned my offerings a thousand times

I know the place the landscape been here before
I will not walk the bad mile anymore

Cause I have seen the sun that I shine
Comes down like pouring waters
And two wrongs will never make a right

Many times what we´re believing
Is bound to change just like the season
We´re blind eyed of short side
Mistake the darkest night for the light of day

So if tonight I´m leaving and finally let go
Maybe you´ll find a freedom you´ve never known

You´re pushed into the twilight against your will
And for a timeless second you´re heart stands still

But cutting through the veil of despair
A gentle wind is blowing

breathing life on weary bones in chains

Many times what we´re believing
Is bound to change just like the season
We´re blind eyed of short side
We know not wrong from what´s right
And as we sink into the mistery of what we are
And what we should be

We let go of our shadows

and in the end we know
Our true face of pure grace

a spirit fair and always
We will dance we will fly
Everyone is so afraid to try

What if we would finally let go
Of all our babel towers
Only to find we´re all we need to be.


~Sarah Brendel- Bable Towers

Sunday, November 25, 2012

quoth the madman

Maybe I'ma little bit nervous ...
"I feel all shadows of the universe multiplied deep inside my skin."
— Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry dated 5 November 1931

literacki

Equalizer
"And similarly, beyond the sea, behind a line of woods, another sea began, roseate with the light of the setting sun, which was in fact the sky."
~ Marcel Proust, À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs

ars poetica



Listen with the night falling we are saying thank you we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings we are running out of the glass rooms with our mouths full of food to look at the sky and say thank you we are standing by the water thanking it smiling by the windows looking out in our directions back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging after funerals we are saying thank you after the news of the dead whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you over telephones we are saying thank you in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators remembering wars and the police at the door and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you in the banks we are saying thank you in the faces of the officials and the rich and of all who will never change we go on saying thank you thank you with the animals dying around us our lost feelings we are saying thank you with the forests falling faster than the minutes of our lives we are saying thank you with the words going out like cells of a brain with the cities growing over us we are saying thank you faster and faster with nobody listening we are saying thank you we are saying thank you and waving dark though it is.

~W. S. Merwin - Thanks

Saturday, November 24, 2012

quoth the madman

“All the mortal world is a lethal enemy during those hours between dawn and dusk.”
― Anne Rice

literacki

“What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind.”
― William Wordsworth, Ode: Intimations Of Immortality From Recollections Of Early Childhood

literacki

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said,
2 Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?
3 Gird up now thy loins like a man; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me.
4 Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.
5 Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it?
6 Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner stone thereof;
7 When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?
8 Or who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb?
9 When I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddlingband for it,
10 And brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors,
11 And said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed?
12 Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days; and caused the dayspring to know his place;
13 That it might take hold of the ends of the earth, that the wicked might be shaken out of it?
14 It is turned as clay to the seal; and they stand as a garment.
15 And from the wicked their light is withholden, and the high arm shall be broken.
16 Hast thou entered into the springs of the sea? or hast thou walked in the search of the depth?
17 Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death?
18 Hast thou perceived the breadth of the earth? declare if thou knowest it all.
19 Where is the way where light dwelleth? and as for darkness, where is the place thereof,
20 That thou shouldest take it to the bound thereof, and that thou shouldest know the paths to the house thereof?
21 Knowest thou it, because thou wast then born? or because the number of thy days is great?
22 Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail,
23 Which I have reserved against the time of trouble, against the day of battle and war?
24 By what way is the light parted, which scattereth the east wind upon the earth?
25 Who hath divided a watercourse for the overflowing of waters, or a way for the lightning of thunder;
26 To cause it to rain on the earth, where no man is; on the wilderness, wherein there is no man;
27 To satisfy the desolate and waste ground; and to cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth?
28 Hath the rain a father? or who hath begotten the drops of dew?
29 Out of whose womb came the ice? and the hoary frost of heaven, who hath gendered it?
30 The waters are hid as with a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen.
31 Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?
32 Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season? or canst thou guide Arcturus with his sons?
33 Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth?
34 Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, that abundance of waters may cover thee?
35 Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go and say unto thee, Here we are?
36 Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts? or who hath given understanding to the heart?
37 Who can number the clouds in wisdom? or who can stay the bottles of heaven,
38 When the dust groweth into hardness, and the clods cleave fast together?
39 Wilt thou hunt the prey for the lion? or fill the appetite of the young lions,
40 When they couch in their dens, and abide in the covert to lie in wait?
41 Who provideth for the raven his food? when his young ones cry unto God, they wander for lack of meat.
~Job 38

literacki

Mitosis
Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.
 
~T. S. Eliot (excerpt, East Coker V, Four Quartets)

the play's the thing


"...To beguile the time,
Look like the time.
Bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue.
Look like th' innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it.
He that’s coming
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night’s great business into my dispatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom."
~Lady Macbeth- Macbeth Act 1, Scene 5
William Shakespeare


quoth the madman

…Verily they reek of the crassest lies.

Nay! Just one minute! You are saying nothing about the masterpieces of these virtuosos of black magic, who can produce whiteness, milk, and innocence out of any black you like: have you not noticed what a pitch of refinement is attached by their chef d’oeuvre, their most audacious, subtle, ingenious, and lying artist-trick? Take care! These cellar-beasts, full of revenge and hate- what do they make, forsooth, out of their revenge and hate? Do you hear these words? Would you suspect, if you trusted only their words, that you are among men of resentment and nothing else?

Nietzsche

Sunday, November 11, 2012

literacki


“Le Roi du maquillage” - Georges Méliès (1904)
"We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them."
— T. S. Eliot, from “Little Gidding” in The Four Quartets

quoth the madman

 A fish cannot drown in water,
A bird does not fall in the air.
In the fire of creation,
Gold does not vanish:
The fire brightens.
Each creature God made
Must live in it’s true nature;
How could I resist my nature,
That lives for oneness with God?

~Mechthild of Magdeburg (1210-1297)

here is truth

mudwerks:
donnalethal
"قمة العظمه…..أن تبتسم وفي عينيك الف دمعه…
The pinnacle of excellence is to smile when your eyes have one thousand tears"
~Arabic Proverb