to whom will be the spoils, in this tear-stained land,
lifeless, radio-active in its blood-drenched sand?
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‘…means what it does’.
a ‘proper noun’; God can only be approachedthrough verbs and adjectives.’The eight petunias which arrived so neatly intheir cardboard box as if pretending to be a book,are already upright, thriving, growing;that magic petal radiance of the deepest purple-blueso delicate, so unique, seems to fillthe space around them with a message:this is what God sings;this is…
Omar – (do I need to insist
when I was young and life was franticI found your poetry romantic –a loaf of bread, a jug of wine,and that non-gender-specific Thou,about whom, scholars gracefully decline..but now I’ve weathered the twentieth centurywith perhaps a touch of graceI’m equally content, and grateful too –chewing on my baguette of chorizo,the screw-top wine beside me,in this battered…
Always, behind the known,
behind the tedious Latin translation,the struggle to find French elegance in French –the private joys of the translator…that rare intimacy, as a soul to soulacross the divides of language…‘Laetus in praesens’ says Marsilio Ficinoin his Renaissance colloquial Latinwritten up around the wallof his Academy, such as it was…The translator – half mechanical,half philosopher, scribbles down‘Rejoice…
and wouldn’t it be weird
and see – our mind!spread out in all its random,untidy, crossed-out, raggedy,contradictory, half-chewed,etc.it just doesn’t bearhalf thinking abouthow clever of, let’s say,Providence,to keep it like it is, invisible; we,letting it out under supervision,teeth clean, polished shoes,opinions preparedfor the lunch-breakand water coolerand photocopierand under supervision even more strict,maximum security,‘association hour’, whenit mixes with the lifers,the condemned,the…
When I was a-dyin’, lyin’ on the sidewalk,
my life flashed backwards in my mind, just like they sez it does;the dog came to life again; she came runnin’ back;the more I hit the liquor, the more the bottles filled;laffed myself to death I did; laffin’ like a drain…
If only love were finally, enough –
look here, and listen: we have loveenough for you; and more; and more;but how to prove that love’s indeed enoughbeyond all doubts? Bring on the opposites;try and test in fire and whirlwind, ice and storm,that love alone remains;for only when the chips are downwill love reveal, just what love really is:containing every opposite that seems…