Thursday, July 26, 2012

helplessness

video

*music by Erica Patoka Warford*

literacki

"… all things end eventually,
No matter how permanent they seem, no matter how
Desperately you want them to remain. And now the sun
Comes out once more, and life becomes sweet again,
Sweet and familiar, on the verge of summer."

~ John Koethe, from “The Bean House

ponderous

"Forgotten things
grasped at things to be forgotten…"

~Paul Celan, from Glottal Stop

For Sandy... godspeed.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

 Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


~Dylan Thomas

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

an answer

"For many nights, a fortnight, maybe more, I would lie awake, peer into the twilight, hopefully waiting for Hypnos, perhaps expecting Th├ínatos, and ask, ‘Where have I gone wrong? What could I have done?’ then, the voice of one long lost who's blood runs, nay, courses through my veins, softly, so softly whispered, 'We shall never allow you to despair, for you are our Champion'..."