Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Emerge into the abyss, the heart of this eternal
City as it rises on the slopes of its inhabitants'
Mediaeval imagination, horned and rusty and
Drunk with stupor, unwittingly causing its own
Step out of this cleavage, take the steam
Train across the ocean, land somewhere in the
Carribean, on a cricket pitch or at some stage of
The never-ending revolutions of Jamaica.
The sun descends slowly on this blue-green ball as
It revolves around itself and around the big ball of fire
Fuelling the machine connecting fingertips to
Leave your locality -- only to return, an endless
Coming-back to the site of your
from lit-id (http://www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html)
On 1 Aug 2004 at 18:57, Mike Geary wrote:
> by Czeslaw Milosz
> It is true, our tribe is similar to the bees.
> It gathers honey of wisdom, carries it, stores it in honeycombs.
> I am able to roam for hours
> Through the labyrinth of the main library, floor to floor.
> But yesterday, looking for the words of masters and prophets
> I wandered into high regions
> That are visited by practically no one.
> I would open a book and could decipher nothing
> For letters faded and disappeared from the pages.
> Woe! I exclaimed -- so it comes to this?
> Where are you, venerable ones, with your beards and wigs,
> Your nights spent by a candle, griefs of your wives?
> So a message saving the world is silenced forever?
> At your home it was the day of making preserves.
> And your dog, sleeping by the fire, would wake up,
> Yawn and look at you -- as if knowing.
> * * * * * *
> by Mike Geary
> I don't know how wasps find their nests.
> and I can't even imagine the nose maps of dogs,
> or how willow roots know in dark dirt where water is.
> There's an explanation for these things I know,
> for nothing happens but Law allows it.
> A missile rises out of the sea and sails
> a thousand miles to it's target,
> a sudden end to everything therein.
> No mystery here. We've a calculus for this.
> All the world should be as advanced as us.
> I don't know what 'knowing 'means.
> Quite unexpectedly my heart races,
> my breath deepens, I feel confused --
> all at the sight of you. I don't know why,
> but my body must. Mind is body shouting: "Gaude!"
Lagt inn av phatic kl. 5:53 PM