from the look of her not too good but I expect shell recover
it was like walking with the sun
who are you to tell me what to do? (night falling) strange aims strangeness nothing to speak of hot night endless it was hard it was hard for a very long time
feelings which are settled no longer settled why dont you just take the car? I wish I could speak I no longer feel as though my feelings Much past experience convinces me that my capacity for self-delusion in these matters is strictly speaking: boundless When I took her home she stayed very close to me as we walked as we walked. Her sheer presence was dazzling, wonderful. It was like walking with the sun. What do we read as we read books unreadbarely regarded Thinking is still contained in perceiving. Perceiving is still a thinking of the senses. Thinking isThinking To overcome the world means to behold the world as it was before it became dead in us During the months before the first menstruation, and for some time immediately afterwards, girls are often passive, seem sleepy, and withdraw into themselves
I guess the aleatory look of the spattered paper is supposed to play off the rigid deliberation of the ruled lines, but the results are consistently boring.
Beautiful credit! The foundation of modern society. Who shall say that this is not the age of mutual trust, of unlimited reliance on human promises?
lotus-bearer lord of the world lord of what we see
is also a timid man, this violence is never expressed physically but only verbally
in the manner of certain painters who paint the same painting over and over again, writes the same poem over and over again. Form is not at / issue
The beloved speaks, softly, out of a machine, her voice broken with sorrow
I can barely listen to y- ou I fall in love whenever I hear you speak
She is: beautiful blue-eyed red-haired self-destructive She is: dark, with gray in her hair what does it mean to love it is a kind of fiction an agreement to be deceived it is a word, spoken, in haste, powerful with fiction
The link in my mind between self-consciousness and religion. Religion is a mode of self-consciousness which doesnt admit to its own bases. A mode of self-remembering which continually manifests itself in an effort to forget. But imagination = self-consciousness
that guiding point to which we can re- turn (thoughts tower)
There are all these women. Which of them do you want? You.
Thanks for the drink and the conversation. Id like more of both.
secret lookscharms words meant only for
With his thing out. With his thing out. With cum on his thing. With cum on his thing. And the cum is soiled.
Well, said the little girl in the tree, some people call me Mother Elderberry; others call me the dryad; but my real name is Memory. I sit in the tree that grows and grows; I can remember everything and therefore I tell stories
Rs fear that if she analyzes it it will go away (the childs fear of thought; the association of thought with death and growth); her Im a big girl now; her fascination with/fear of deathall these suggest that she has reached a transitional point in her life but that she lacks the resources to make the leap. At her age (34) she is getting rather desperate. Prescription: NO love affairs, womens groups for at least six months
Had you followed your impulses here you might have arrived at something approaching understanding. But no, you chose to remain the critic, the judge, the expert. What Is...remains elusive.
You cant name them because the power is too direct. But you can refer to them indirectly.
They are called The Shining Onesones who inhabit any body.
At the slipping (shopping) center it is warma warm breeze (not enough) I close my eyes
She looked at me the way any man wants a woman to look at him. She looked: radiant, beautiful. She was all the women I had ever desired. She told me she was about to throw up.
your bodyendlesstime sweeps everything (wait and and see) In the field the children dance. I wish.
My son chases the ball.
Time fixes everythingin the sense of affixes, immobilizes it light covers everything, touches it deeply as I touch you or would touch you
(eyesIsis!) It was the good crossing guard, Mary Foley. She stood in the path of a runaway car and pushed seven children to safety. My first thought was that a child had been hit, said Sister Charlotte Ann, but no, it was Mary. We heard brakes screech and children scream. The kindly granny had helped youngsters survive the busy intersection near St. Marys Grammar School in Melrose, Mass., for 10 years before her final act of love ended in tragedy. The outstanding thing about Mary was her giving character, said the Rev. John Finn, pastor of St. Marys. There was not one selfish thing about her. She gave her life to the children.
How does love linger in ushow does it speakhow does it rise again what is the source of this connection?
A strong ascetic element was present in Irish monasticism from the beginning, based on that of some of the early fathers who lived far from civilization in the desert; so that in remote and practically inaccessible places we find not only provisions for solitary hermits, but also small monasteries with two or three cells that might better be called communal hermitages.
And so, just as from the Fancys image, taken from the body, there arises in the appetite of sense a love inclined toward the senses, so from the intellects universal species or Reason, which is entirely remote from the body, there arises in the Will Another Sort of Love
Stunned in this wretchedness of silence
im-pression ex-pression de-pression pressure what is it, love? speech!
it is therefore supposed the lion continues destruction of structures means eye and foundation jeered at as men superficial appearances are transmutations on this account to the path of Gimel subconscious level was patroness, a curve, which could,
the history of Poetry is a History of Loss
It is necessary to put fresh flowers on her grave Thin, beautiful body. Her father photographs, loving, but there is an edge to his voice, a sharpness. Rita, listen. Not for long now.
The abstracting by which she is able to make her points is also true of the magazine as a whole. What McLuhan calls a galaxy or constellation of events is absent from her work. Despite the attempt at variety among the articles. Love = power = imagination
The gods of the North have suffered two eclipsesfirst by the advent of Christianity, which destroyed their shrines and condemned their stories, and then by the Classical Renaissance, which as early as the 12th century gave Europe a repertoire of Greek and Roman myths which almost completely annihilated the Germanic
seeing at once too many people and too fewhaving the wrong relationship to people
What I call the auditory imagination is the feeling for syllable and rhythm, penetrating far below the conscious levels of thought and feeling, invigorating every word; sinking to the most primitive and forgotten, returning to the origin and bringing something back, seeking the beginning and the end
eyes elusive distanced polytropon voyager
(that man that came out of the sea)
I dont know what to do. My editor hated the book. She cut out all of the history, all of the anthropology, and left me with just a few insights and a bunch of sex stories. I know what to do! Cut the insights.
Sam Spade looked up as Brigid OShaughnessy popped another pill. You dont know what the fuck youre talking about.
I am the wind on the sea I am a wave of the ocean I am the roar of the sea
FIERY BURNING RED-HEADED WOMAN
Bridget is the ancient Irish goddess of fire, poetry, fertility, household arts, smithcraft, etc. Christianized, she became one of the patron (in this case, matron) saints of Ireland; my poem is an invocation, an attempt to make her happen.
NOTES TO BRIDGET, PRONOUNCED BREED In its themes and techniques my poem Bridget, Pronounced Breed raises a number of questions. The poem continually shifts not only from one speaker but, in the manner of open form, from one context to anotherthough it always maintains some sort of connection to its title figure, Bridget, the ancient Irish goddess of fire, poetry, fertility, household arts, smithcraft, etc. Christianized, Bridget became one of the patron (in this case, matron) saints of Ireland, and my poem is an invocation, an attempt to make her happen. The poem's sexual themes are in keeping not only with Bridgets status as fire goddess but with my belief that such huge mythic figures are created out of desiredesire which ultimately removes itself from the realm of any particular man or woman and deliberately enters into the realm of mythology (It was like walking with the sun). There is much involved in such a subjectimagination, modes of love, etc.and the figure of Bridget herself thrusts us back into the rich oral past of Irish folklore. To mythologize, as I do in this poem, is also to take some sort of public stance rather than merely asserting ones own subjectivity, and that too is an issue of Bridget. There is, it seems to me, a persistently public aspect to human consciousness which does not disappear even in the most inward of states: one is always in the world. This is reflected in my poem in the many quotations it containsquotations which come to me from more or less public sources and which, in the manner of T.S. Eliots The Waste Land, are collaged into the poem's fabric. Finally, the poem is meant to be spoken. As the great English poet, Gerard Manley Hopkins, writing of his poem, Spelt From Sibyl's Leaves, put it,
Of this long sonnet above all remember what applies to all my verse, that it is, as living art should be, made for performance and that its performance is not reading with the eye but loud, leisurely, poetical (not rhetorical) recitation, with long rests, long dwells on the rhyme and other marked syllables, and so on.This sonnet shd. be almost sung: it is most carefully timed in tempo rubato.
SOURCES OF QUOTATIONS: George Khlewind, Stages of Consciousness; Bruno Bettelheim, The Uses of Enchantment; Kenneth Bakers review of Richard Chase's work in The San Francisco Chronicle, 9/6/85. Mark Twain on credit was quoted in The Chronicle 9/13/85; the lotus bearer is Avalokitesvarasee the Britannica; H.C. Andersen, Mother Elderberry in Complete Fairy Tales, trans. Erik Christian Haugaard. The story about Mary Foley (as far as I know, no relation to me) is from Weekly World News 10/8/85; The Northern World, ed. David M. Wilson; Marsilio Ficino, Commentary on Platos Symposium On Love, trans. Sears Jayne; Paul Foster Case, The Tarot; Marshall McLuhan, The Gutenberg Galaxy; T.S. Eliot, "The Use of Poetry and the Use of Criticism" as quoted in McLuhan: Hot & Cool, ed. Gerald Emanuel Stearn; Marie-Louise Sjoestedt, Gods and Heroes of the Celts. Polytropon is the word Homer uses to refer to Odysseus at the beginning of The Odyssey. Odysseus has a mind of many turns. I was thinking specifically of the Nausicaa episode and of the many invaders of Ireland. I discovered recently that I had unwittingly stolen the title of my poem from Robert Kellys Shillelagh Law, which I had read as part of a course given by the Before Columbus Foundation:
to speak or to receive, to drink Never trust an irishman who doesn't I used to say but trust her that Brigid (pron. breed)