Sunday, January 30, 2011
Galway Kinnell
1
You scream, waking from a nightmare.
When I sleepwalk
into your room, and pick you up,
and hold you up in the moonlight, you cling to me
hard,
as if clinging could save us. I think
you think
I will never die, I think I exude
to you the permanence of smoke or stars,
even as
my broken arms heal themselves around you.
2
I have heard you tell
the sun, don't go down, I have stood by
as you told the flower, don't grow old,
don't die.
I would blow the flame out of your silver cup,
I would suck the rot from your fingernail,
I would brush your sprouting hair of the dying light,
I would scrape the rust off your ivory bones,
I would help death escape through the little ribs of your body,
I would alchemize the ashes of your cradle back into wood,
I would let nothing of you go, ever,
3
Yes,
you cling because
I, like you, only sooner
than you, will go down
the path of vanished alphabets,
the roadlessness
to the other side of the darkness,
your arms
like the shoes left behind,
like the adjectives in the halting speech
of old men,
which once could call up the lost nouns.
learn,
as you stand
at this end of the bridge which arcs,
from love, you think, into enduring love,
learn to reach deeper
into the sorrows
to come – to touch
the almost imaginary bones
under the face, to hear under the laughter
the wind crying across the black stones. Kiss
the mouth
which tells you, here,
here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.
The still undanced cadence of vanishing.
6
In the light the moon
sends back, I can see in your eyes
the hand that waved once
in my father's eyes, a tiny kite
wobbling far up in the twilight of his last look:
and the angel
of all mortal things lets go the string.
Little sleep's-head sprouting hair in the moonlight,
when I come back
we will go out together,
we will walk out together among
the ten thousand things,
each scratched too late with such knowledge, the wages
of dying is love.
(edited)
Thursday, January 27, 2011
"M"
In watching the German film, "M", the first of Fritz Lang's "talkies", you are transported from an hour and half of consequential and obviously important boredom, to the last 20 minutes of one of the most affecting and emotionally riveting scenes I have ever scene portrayed in film. Peter Lorre is astounding. It is worth the wait, believe me.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
It's never the changes we want that change everything.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The best quote I've read in a while. Thank you, Kia.
"Altogether, I think we ought to read only books that bite and sting us. If the book we are reading doesn't shake us awake like a blow to the skull, why bother reading it in the first place? So that it can make us happy, as you put it? Good God, we'd be just as happy if we had no books at all; books that make us happy we could, in a pinch, also write ourselves. What we need are books that hit us like a most painful misfortune, like the death of someone we loved more than we love ourselves, that make us feel as though we had been banished to the woods, far from any human presence, like suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is what I believe."
-Franz Kafka, in a letter to Oskar Pollak dated January 27, 1904
Without Love
Katharine Hepburn on the MGM lot during the filming of Without Love (1945)
Calvin Klein: Your style, did it come from you? Or was it someone else that influenced you?
KH: No, no one influenced me. I think that I must have been very self-conscious about my appearance, that I wanted to present something that looked as though it had just come out of the woods or something, and everyone thought, ‘I’ve never seen anything like that before.’
I liked to look as if I didn’t give a damn. I think you should pretend you don’t care … but it’s the most outrageous pretense. I said to Garbo once, ‘I bet it takes us longer to look as if we hadn’t made any effort than it does someone else to come in beautifully dressed.’
CK: Were you influenced by any of the men you knew at that time?
KH: No! I never dressed up for any man. If I thought he cared how I looked, I would have thought he was a fool. I really would have.
The men dressed for me, you know. Nobody ever made a pass at me unless I fully expected them to and welcomed the notion.
CK: Good for you.
KH: I’m rather a forbidding character.
-excerpted from Washington Post Magazine interview
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Lee
Cancelling itself
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Novemberween, finally
Sunday, January 16, 2011
"Marilyn", by Norman Mailer
I gave it 3 stars for the photographs. It seemed Mr. Mailer was more interested in her fragility and sex appeal than her actual well being. His insight is captivating, yes, but sells her short in many ways. This book gives the reader a strong perception of a woman that is to be pitied more than emulated.
"These fragments I have shored against my ruins."
Read it aloud.
Perilous
Thursday, January 13, 2011
B.B.
Rebel Song (edited)
"Give me a pen