Jeff Harrison

Appius told Minutius ah sweet content, where is thy mild abode
Minutius told Calphurnia we ask and ask - thou smilest and art still
Calphurnia told Corbulo loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy
Corbulo told Horatio do never appear but in the dark or night
Horatio told Icilius my lost delights, now clean from sight of land
Icilius told Numitorius how many thoughts of what entombéd hopes
Numitorius told Virginia and at thy growing virtues fret their spleen
Icilius told Virginia now the black planet shadowed Arctic snows
Horatio told Virginia the world shall find this miracle in me
Corbulo told Virginia restless through Fortune's mingled scenes I went
Calphurnia told Virginia ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate
Minutius told Virginia some prescience of thee with the blossoms white
Appius told Virginia each hour a day each day a year did seem
Virginia told Appius as white their bark, so white this lady's hours


*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Jeff Harrison explains the incredible construction of his poem (featured above) I called a "vortex", and with this explanation I am even more impressed (see on Antic View for further comments):

The 14 lines the characters tell arelines from 14 sonnets. The first line in "The Recital" is from the firstline of a sonnet, the second line is from the second line of a differentsonnet, continuing in this manner to the 14th line, which is from the 14thline of a 14th sonnet. Here are the authors used, and their sonnets, in order of appearance:

1. Barnabe Barnes "ah sweet content..." from sonnet 46 of "Parthenophil andParthenophe"
2. Matthew Arnold "we ask and ask..." from "Shakespeare"
3. Christina Rossetti "loathsome and foul..." from "The World"
4. Sir Thomas Wyatt "do never appear..." from sonnet beginning "Some foulsthere be"
5. Sir Walter Raleigh "my lost delights..." from sonnet beginning "Liketruthless dreams"
6. Edgar Allan Poe "how many thoughts..." from "Sonnet - To Zante"
7. John Milton "and at thy growing virtues..." from sonnet 9
8. George Meredith "now the black planet..." from "Lucifer In Starlight"
9. Samuel Daniel "The world shall find..." from sonnet 33 of "Delia"
10. Robert Southey "restless through Fortune's..." from sonnet beginning"With many a weary step, at length I gain"
11. William Shakespeare "ruin hath taught me..." from Sonnet 64
12. Elizabeth Barrett Browning "Some prescience..." from Sonnet 20 of"Sonnets from the Portuguese"
13. George Gascoigne "each hour a day..." from Sonnet 2 of "Alexander Neviledelivered him this theame... whereupon hee compiled these seven Sonets insequence..." (sequence begins with"In haste poste haste, when first my wandring minde"
14. Ezra Pound "as white their bark..." from "A Virginal"

Thomas Merton

The Merton Reflection for the Week of February 26, 2007


Christian asceticism is remarkable above all for its balance, its sense of proportion. It does not overstress the negative side of the ascetic life, nor does it tend to flatter the ego by diminishing responsibilities or watering down the truth. It shows us clearly that, while we can do nothing without grace, we must nevertheless cooperate with grace. It warns us that we must make an uncompromising break with the world and all it stands for, but it keeps encouraging us to understand that our existence in “the world” and in time becomes fruitful and meaningful in proportion as we are able to assume spiritual and Christian responsibility for our life, our work, and even for the world we live in. Thus Christian asceticism does not provide a flight from the world, a refuge from stress and the distractions of manifold wickedness. It enables us to enter into the confusion of the world bearing something of the light of Truth in our hearts, and capable of exercising something of the mysterious, transforming power of the Cross, of love and sacrifice.

Seasons of Celebration [SC]. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1950: 131-132

Thought to Remember:

The Holy Spirit never asks us to renounce anything without offering us something much higher and much more perfect in return. Self-chastisement for its own sake has no place in Christianity. The function of self-denial is to lead to a positive increase of spiritual energy and life. The Christian dies, not merely in order to die, but in order to liveSC: 130

Visit our website!

Karri Kokko & Tom Beckett

A new interview on E-X-C-H-A-N-G-E-V-A-L-U-E-S
Tom Beckett interviews Karri Kokko!

don't miss it___________

Tongues

I made of tongues my income
green tongues red violet blue-striped
Impressionist tongues mother & father tongues
tongues of resistant sails or Cubist ones
engraved by Doré* entwined sautées
existentialist and Chagall's fiddling ones
Mallarmé Van Gogh Mozart Lautréamont
tongues and tongues snowing from above
growing from below soprano and mezzo
Venite exultemus domino (Psalm 95)
Jean-Joseph de Mondonville


*The Confusion of Tongues (1865)

acknowledging Wikipedia

Saint Thomas Aquinas

acknowledging Wikipedia

ten top movies

for Tad Richards

Aaron Belz

keep an eye on
Observable Readings

The Neophyte by Gustave Doré

http://www.daheshmuseum.org/collection/exhibitions/gallery_dore.php?img=5
click on the image, it opens up

The Neophyte

drown down by the snooze_i_ness
of repetition _habit _imprinted knowledge
day after day after day after day
the snoring choir begins

nothing but a tickling effect
for our neophyte
all light
projected in his clean outfit
smell of goat milk
beardless & callow

he’ll make of the day
more than 300 gathered for over fifty years

10 favorite movies

Okay, I have been tagged by our Great Tom Beckett who was tagged by Richard Lopez (who by the way mentions The Hitcher - movie I also wanted to quote) to name 10 favorite movies, not too bad, indeed. Difficult, though, these are just the first I was able to dig up, I am sure there are plenty more and will come out in the next few hours with a comment, how could I forget that one?

1. La vita è bella (Life is beautiful) Benigni
2. Apocalypse now (Redux is all right) Francis Ford Coppola (loosely based on Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad)
3. A Beautiful Mind by Ron Howard
4. American Beauty by Sam Mendes with Kevin Spacey and Annette Bening
5. Catch Me If You Can by Steven Spielberg, I even liked Leonardo Di Caprio in this perfomance besides the usual Tom Hanks (see Philadelphia, Save Private Ryan, The Da Vinci Code, There is mail for you,
6. Dogville by Lars von Trier (not exceptional but I can forgive much to a movie that features Nicole Kidman)
7. The Experiment (a must see) by Oliver Hirschbiegel (based on the 1971 Stanford University simulation study of the psychology of imprisonment)
8. Girlfight by Karyn Kusama with Diana Guzman
9. The Lord of the Rings (3) by Peter Jackson and Harry Potter (the entire series)
10. Eyes Wide Shut by Stanley Kubrick with Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise

10. The Matrix + The Matrix Reloaded by Andy Wachowski with Keanu Reeves and Carrie Ann Moss, originally taken from William Gibson’s homonymous novel.

___already (over!) ten…_



Just about everything by Ingmar Bergman, Pierpaolo Pasolini, Andrei Tarkovsky, Stanley Kubrick, any movie that belongs to The Twilight Zone series by Rod Serling, …
Absolutely favorite actors: Tom Hanks, Tom Hanks, Nicole Kidman, Tom Cruise could be added at a distance


And now let me tag: Bill Allegrezza, Jean Vengua, Pam Brown, Tad Richards, Bob Grumman

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Nietzsche

From Wikipedia under Friedrich Nietzsche

Renenutet

Renenutet









Renenutet was a goddess in ancient Egyptian mythology. Other names of her are Renenet, Ernutet, and Termuthis. She could manifest herself as a cobra or as a woman. This goddess was associated with taking care of children and protecting the pharaoh. Titles for her include "Lady of Fertile Fields" and "Lady of Grannaries". Renenutet was also connected with grains and harvests. The Egyptians frequently had small shrines of Renenutet near wine presses. Wine was often given as an offering to her.
Renenutet was sometimes depicted as a woman with the head of a lioness, though this portrayal was rare. The pharaohs Amernemhat III and Amenemhat IV built a temple dedicated to Renenutet at Medinet Maadi. This temple was also dedicated to Sobek ( a crocodile deity) and Horus (the god of light). During the time of the Ptolematic dynasty, this temple was enlarged. A fair amount of this temple is still standing. During the periods of Ptolematic and Roman rule, there was a cult center of Renenutet at Kom Abu Billo.
In the city of Dja there was an annual festival celebrated in honor of Renenutet. Grains was given as an offering to her. Renenutet was thought to be the mother of Nepri. The god Nepri was also associated with grains, for example, wheat and barley. His cult center was located in the southern part of the Fayyum. Nepri was eventually assimilated by Osiris; thus Nepri was no longer worshipped as a deity distinct from Osiris.
The Egyptians believed that Renenutet protected the clothing of the pharaoh in the afterlife. It was because of her connection with clothing, that she was referred to as "Lady of the Robes" in the period of Ptolemaic rule.

Neal Robbins

NICK PIOMBINO

I received today FAIT ACCOMPLI by Nick Piombino whom I would like to thank on this blog. As usual I opened the book randomly, this my sacrality for the book to look for the _message_ sent to me:

Sand

Camouflage was the word I was looking for. [7/23/01]

::May 9::

They had to go beyond grief, terror and boredom. Ecstasy and pain; just to remain was effort enough, and more. [11/10/93]

The winner of the game is the key player of the game.

The complete attention of all the players of the game goes to the one who has been favored by the outcome. [11/15/93]

Grandiosity and the reduction process.

Time is not relationship but relationship within change. Einstein sees the relativity of time to matter. There is also the relationship of time to change. Where there is no change (pockets of slow change) time seems absent.

* + * + * + * + * + *

plus this, from the Buffalo List:

Please come celebrate the publication of Nick Piombino's *fait accompli* (with an afterword by Gary Sullivan) from Factory School's Heretical Texts
http://www.factoryschool.org/pubs/heretical/vol3/piombino/index.html

TUESDAY, February 27
at 8pm.
at UNNAMEABLE BOOKS
456 Bergen Street
Brooklyn NY 11217
(off Flatbush Avenue)
(718) 789 1534
unnameablebooks@earthlink.netwww.unnameablebooks.net

Easy* to get to. Take the 2 or 3 train to Bergen street stop (not to be confused with the other Bergen stop on the F line). Unnameable Books is just 1/2 block from the subway. Pinchik paint is on the corner.* Bergen is one stop past the Atlantic AND Pacific St transfer point with the D,M,N,R and B,Q,2,3,4,5 lines

white horse

after Mawiyah Bomani's poem


such a Pegasus was never to be seen
only Bellerophon drove him
they say he knew
how to skid through disasters so swiftly
they collapsed before happening


and after another poem of hers:



oh you mean the chatty ducks
there is a prototype who lives right in front of me
a shining trombone, an unidentified mixture or reality shows
the bad picture of any caricature you can see
funny to say she can't even speak proper Italian
I wish someone would use her words as a tornado
and suck her out of the worlds

lemons

accede the junk on the moor
mull neon nouns to a mono-null
the junky jury of a forlorn norm
nukes chunky omens
against moon clones
euros stuck in runes
lulling lemon noels
for unlucky loony jokers
enemies at the helm
unreeling from eyes & knees
ochre echo in a hulling cadence
at the core the rule of the monk

the Faker's

I knew a false couple
who manipulated so much
their hands were as large as the earth
she as fat as a fart
him skinny and short
I sometimes thought
what was the good of it
to be glorified while knowing
you had faked it all.

Il Parmigianino

Self-portrait in a convex mirror

c. 1524

and

Madonna with Long Neck 1534-40

thanks to the Web Gallery

AARON FOGEL

AARON FOGEL

337,000, December, 2000


1.

They are formidable, the wild geese, in their numbers.
They lie down in the rushes and become reeds.
The leaf-shaped facts, in fact, have many shapes.

Use reuses itself to become design-
The sketcher’s brushstroke determines the count and the light
And how it is absorbed and at what angles.

The beak that widened to meet the prey,
The cry a half-tone higher.

Literature is an infiltration of the mind
By its stops. The mandarins stopped to wonder on the mountains.
The echo of the chorus broke the sidewalk-
People encumbered benches-vegetation-
No conspiracy controlled the census list
But it was misused

A husband and wife argue about Christmas and Chanukah,
They are formidable, the wild geese, even alone

Even far from China flying over east coast waves near here
At prodigal speeds alone and just above the water


2.

You say beyond I say in time beyond
And who knows whether the great painters of the old regime
Were not in fact political monsters?
Composing great annotations together for the wrong side?

It is the sieve of words the wild geese flying
The Luoyang exiles, the six vowels
And a thousand years later the Luoyang fire

The six avowals the six false promises the six days of creation the six sicknesses

Clogs approach dogs on the yeast white sand
By which we mean the murder of the seals

Doctors in nineteenth-century English novels
Approached their jobs according to their authors’
Views as to whether the culture might be healed
There were three quacks for every quail four quails
For every raven and one blind eagle.

But they reformed the blind craft and divided
Into pharmacists, no longer peddling their drugs
And the farsighted Oedipus the Cured

Some of the leaves were punctured while alive


3.

But here, in the diseased undercount
They thought the word marsupial was witty
Ti Yi failed to laugh at it on the haystack mountain and was banished
For not having a “sense of humor”
As they wrote with careful brushstrokes on the indictment

And there were holes and punctures in the paper
Left by the stylus of the people
And that was made a joke and the wild geese crying
Sounded like laughter or mourning to the official Listeners

Artful complaint is never as murky as it seems
All are freed by it-a little
And artful compliance never as unforgivable

Here is where shells insinuate clouds and mist
Into history
Despite the west wind
They work like scribes glad to be accused of too much
Obedience or obscurity. On the floors and walls they climb like chalk.
The pari-mutuel parodists flatter the roundcheeked
Laughers
Desperate to see themselves as merry
In the mirror they carry around with them.
They are sprung but not freed. They take dictation
From the cage of comedy.
It defines them.

Reformulation gathers the vowels in
As legal reform cannot

Summon us with chapters of return


4.

The cinnabar of banishment

The primed mountains are full of filial herbs.
Interns and residents traipse trellises or caves
Taking brief time off when they can to nap:
Each part of the body has its distinctive tiredness.
The heart tires in its own iodine; a feeling different from the weariness
Of the shoulders’ gravel and the exhaustion of the differently graveled brain.

Each hour of sleep denotes the rest
Of devotion, and is devoted to one of the seven parts,
It was all kabbalah, all the book of the body.

Now there are three hundred thirty-seven thousand
Days in the year, and a year is a dragon’s empire,
And time writes down what the single leaves could not.
Promotion equals demotion the denotation of the soul

Refining cinnabar in a night furnace
Tinterns and interns glint the inner kiln
They call the court the melting geodesic
Dome the igloo aglow the banished rabbi
Whose reticent political emotions guide the sefer

Hedging; the hedges
The cinnabar of banishment


5.

The bird and the leaf who resemble each other
In not staying lastingly on the tree
Are not friends, are unaware of each other.
They inhabit different corners of attention.

Their departures are at their own rates, statistically speaking.
They fold into their own collectives or unfold
Wingspans against the humors of each of their worlds.
They have no common reputations except in a language
Different from any here: they unfold in the fog.


from Pataphysics

The Best American Poetry 2004
Guest Editor Lyn Hejinian
Series Editor David Lehman

Frank Parker's new Blog

http://mrparkers.blogspot.com/



and here is his page:
-- http://frankshome.org

illustrating

Todd Lundbohm's poem

AB

FATED

stylized tension running from him to her
from her to him from him to her
attraction _magnetic _touching of fingers
projection /in forceful waves _projection
feigned detachment to keep emotion under control
fated _when what will be is consumed at first sight

AB

for centuries to come

Subject: for centuries to come

Author: Anny Ballardini
Creation date: Wednesday, February 14, 2007 5:59:22 AM CST
Date last modified: Wednesday, February 14, 2007 6:04:09 AM CST

like a rhinoceros
robust scales covering its body
the relatively small mountain from the classroom window
stands out against the lapis lazuli white-striped sky
like an overpowering whale
(my students working on their tests)
oval, convex lines, deep cracks, unevenly broken up
now a warrior defending his tribe standing boldly out of the forest
his shield in his right arm
behind him a mute fearful congregation
etched in Campigli’s refining geometrical lines
the slightest change of light forges new shapes
now the notched corrugated rim of a plateau
with an oval jewel tucked in the middle
a stone girdle and its opaque broche to lock it
thick scales of frozen chocolate grated by a god
with a crunchy central almond boulders for nuts
gigantic bats deep in their sleep cover the fringes
or rounded almost pink Magritte’s doves at rest
one clustered to the other as if wanting warmth
against what by now seems a sunny day
preceding what will be soon spring
haggard swallows arrowing through the air
the urancient face of a lion nostrils wide open
betray what seems immobile detachment
behind him a lioness rests _shut eyelids protruding
hide us from her terrifying sight
and in the background an Etruscan profile
and behind him someone else in the opposite position
and behind again a cat
Egyptian-like the sequence in its stratified perspective
on the left of the rounded gear mating with the woods
part of the carousel of studded figures adorning it
a rhomboid rugged spinning top
the long neck of a giraffe resting against this gigantic toy
perfectly & roundly cut its spinning point
the crevice in-between forms a huge dark cave
in front of which _greeting the Sun in its mid-morning ascension
and for centuries to come
a single detached vertical slab
his right arm raised
and in the evening his left one.



AB

singulated

(title after Todd Lundbohm's poem)

I was first married to Instinct of Life
Second to Necessity
_thriftiness and gloomy rights_
Then to Hunger
Finally to Look for a Job
_shoes worn out
_lots of bullshit
Despair chose me for his wife
_howling at night while he was asleep
Pitied was Patience that brought me to the altar
_in a ragged white dress
_Humility stood as a witness
_together with Forgetfulness who shred to pieces
_what was left of my mind
That is when the Hordes gathered
Under the emblem of Envy
With their shining scythes
They pillaged my crown
Excavated my head my hands my thorax
My left temple a void tunnel

Stereotype saw me
And at St. Valentine’s
With a bunch of Roses
Caught my sight
_several maids of honor at the wedding
_Homologation
_conforming Lady
_mass-mediated Chat
_Silence
_bent Head
_Lack of Smile

My parents, Do it All & None of my Business
Say I have gone so far and never to stop

Galatea is here again!

CONTENTS:EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION

From Eileen Tabios

NEW REVIEWS


Ron Silliman reviews BEEN BLUE FOR CHARITY by kari edwards
Mark Young reviews BEEN BLUE FOR CHARITY by kari edwards
Guillermo Parra reviews Micah Ballard’s poems in 6x6 #5; BETTINA COFFIN; ABSINTHIAN JOURNAL; SCENES FROM THE SARAGOSSA MANUSCRIPT; UNFORESEEN; DEATH RACE V.S.O.P.; EVANGELINE DOWNS; and NEGATIVE CAPABILITY IN THE VERSE OF JOHN WIENERS
Julie R. Enszer reviews BALANCING ACTS by Rochelle Ratner
Ernesto Priego reviews THE ANIMAL HUSBAND by Christine Hamm
Nicholas Manning reviews NIGHT SEASON by Mark Lamoureux
Eileen Tabios reviews FIRST ADVENTURES OF COL AND SEM by Dan Waber
J. LeClerc reviews BOWERY WOMEN: POEMS, Ed. by Marjorie Tesser & Bob Holman
Ivy Alvarez presents a Chap Roundup reviewing MY LIGHTWEIGHT INTENTIONS by Pam Brown; SURFACE TENSION by Mackenzie Carignan and Scott Glassman; TRANSLATIONS FROM AFTER by Joel Chace; OH MISS MARY by Jim McCrary; DOVEY & ME by Strongin; and THE NAME POEMS by Jeffrey Cyphers Wright
Julie R. Enszer reviews A HALF-RED SEA by Evie Shockley
Nicholas Manning reviews TRACT by Jon Leon
Mary Jo Malo reviews BLOOD AND SALSA / PAINTING RUST by Jonathan Penton
Rebecca Mabanglo-Mayor reviews THE GODS WE WORSHIP LIVE NEXT DOOR by Bino Realuyo
Eileen Tabios reviews THE ALLEGREZZA FICCIONES by Mark Young
Jeannine Hall Gailey reviews NAVIGATE, AMELIA EARHART'S LETTERS HOME by Rebecca Loudon
Nicholas Downing reviews CIVILIZATION by Elizabeth Arnold
William Allegrezza reviews KALI'S BLADE by Michelle Bautista
John Bloomberg-Rissman reviews UNPROTECTED TEXTS: SELECTED POEMS 1978-2006 by Tom Beckett
Tom Beckett reviews A READING, 18-20 by Beverly Dahlen
Eileen Tabios reviews WIND IS WIND AND RAIN IS RAIN by Brynne
Allen Bramhall reviews DOWN SPOOKY by Shanna Compton
Lynn Strongin reviews SHOT WITH EROS: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS and SEED PODS, both by Glenna Luschei
William Allegrezza reviews I OF THE STORM by Bill Lavender
Richard Lopez reviews OH MISS MARY by Jim McCrary
Craig Santos Perez reviews THE TIME AT THE END OF THIS and 60 LV BO(E)MBS, both by Paolo Javier
Anne Haines presents a Chap Roundup reviewing RADISH KING by Rebecca Loudon; LIVING THINGS by Charles Jensen; and MORTAL by Ivy Alvarez
Lynn Strongin reviews THIRST by Mary Oliver
Mario E. Mireles reviews excerpts from NOT EVEN DOGS by Ernesto Priego; Matsuo Bash’s “The Narrow Road of the Interior" in The Norton Anthology of World Masterpieces, Ed. Maynard Mack; and Octavio Paz’s "The Tradition of the Haiku" in Convergences: Essays on Art and Literatur.
William Allegrezza reviews ELAPSING SPEEDWAY ORGANISM by Bruce Covey
Laurel Johnson reviews CALLS FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD by Robert Hershon
Eileen Tabios reviews BODY OF CRIMSON LEAVES by Celia Homesley
Eileen Tabios reviews THE PLANT WATERER AND OTHER THINGS IN COMMON by Kathryn Rantala
Julie R. Enszer reviews OSIP MANDELSTAM: NEW TRANSLATIONS, Ed. by Ilya Bernstein
Hugh Fox reviews SEEDPODS by Glenna Luschei
Marjorie Light reviews COMING FULL CIRCLE: THE PROCESS OF DECOLONIZATION AMONG POST-1975 FILIPINO AMERICANS and A BOOK OF HER OWN: WORDS AND IMAGES TO HONOR THE BABAYLAN, both by Leny M. Strobel
Mark Young reviews SONNET by Matt Hart
Eileen Tabios reviews THE GRACES by Elizabeth Treadwell and SONNET by Matt Hart

FROM OFFLINE TO ONLINE: REPRINTED REVIEWS

Andrew Joron reviews ULTRA VIOLET by Laura Moriarty
Britta Ameel reviews ALASKAPHRENIA by Christine Hume
Sharon Mesmer reviews OPPOSABLE THUMB by Joe Elliot
Eileen Tabios reviews OBEYED DILEMMA by Jukka-Pekka Kervinen
Alfred Yuson reviews BELIEVE & BETRAY by Cirilo F. Bautista
Alfred Yuson reviews MATADORA by Sarah Gambito
Alfred Yuson reviews FAULTY ELECTRICAL WIRING: POEMS by Ruel S. De Vera, A FEAST OR ORIGINS by Dinah Roma and ELSE IT WAS PURELY GIRLS by Angelo Suarez

BACK COVER

What it Means to be Missy WinePoetics’ Dawgs


AND SEE THE FLAGS AND THE FLAGPOLES!!!!

Kasimir Malevich

"Suprematism is the rediscovery of pure art that, in the course of time, had become obscured by the accumulation of 'things'."

- Kasimir Malevich, The Non-Objective World

(Supremus No. 58) 1916; Oil on canvas, 79.5 x 70.5 cm (31 1/4 x 27 3/4 in); State Russian Museum, St. Petersburg

Cecil Touchon

suprematism _non-objective Art

thanks to Joel Weishaus for forwarding it

to the bad neighbors & whom with them

..........................___go go just go_

I can extend Requiem Aeternam's ad voluntate

........................................mea atque Dei

their manipulating thought

similis est inferno quia obscurus et crudelis displicet hominibus atque Deo


Amen

+ + + + + + + + +

me

The New Poetry List

HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY! With a particular acknowledgment to James Finnegan, List Owner of the New Poetry List, I am pasting here below his message to the list:

Febraury 10, 2007

The NewPoetry List turns 6 this year. I really
appreciate the help of the contributing correspondents:
David, Hal, Jim C, Anny, Paul (MIA of late), Jeff (going
for his PhD)...and all the other frequent contributors.

I thank you for all for jumping in and mixing it up, in a good
way. (Bob, that means you too.) This list goes on, people
come and go. The door is open. Pass the word on...it's always
great to see a new person join and enter our fitful conversations...
sometimes it takes of few posts before dialog ensues...or, for
that matter, it's great to have a lurker emerge from the pixelated
background with a remark.

Anyway, pass this post on to anyone you think might be interested
in subscribing....it's free, we like free:
--
To Subscribe to NewPoetry, go to…http://wiz.cath.vt.edu/mailman/listinfo/new-poetry

The NewPoetry List has two purposes: information and discussion related to contemporary poetry. We welcome publication announcements, reviews, essays, open letters, news items, quotes, and, of course, poems and your commentary.

James Finnegan

**********************************

Behind the closed door

(title taken from Tara Harold)


Behind a closed door a garret
a sea Chinese people bustling in the streets
camels and concentration revision and investigation
behind an enameled red door a case full of maps
and stairs and views from high windows
into dark depths of skies
a cherished closed door protecting books
and tales and long games of views
and questions and circles and oranges
and ethereal flights
a closed door to reject select
rest and respectfully project

Morning at Sunshine Bridge

(title taken from Mollie Day's poem)

from night into shining iron
through the misty rim into the mossy urn
to host the mighty storm
gong in a home
mourning minor sins hugging our son
sighs trimming from ruins
rumors thronging through rough norms
thugs mining into ruts
shots in mires at turns among runts
surmising and then mitring
thorns to the north and grim suns
hitting runs in short detours
nursing ghosts torn from mirth
months as strings shut in slits of mud
no remorse for the ermine
in rosined rigged shotguns

AB

Last Saturday

Claude Monet

Sent by James Finnegan to the New Poetry List, with my thank you:

Monet Refuses the Operation

Doctor, you say that there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don't see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.
What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolve
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don't know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world
is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!
Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
burn to mix with air
and changes our bones, skin, clothes
to gases. Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.


-- Lisel Mueller

Snyder & Weishaus

See:
On Michael Rothenberg's Big Bridge:
Gary Snyder's Danger on Peaks
by Joel Weishaus

Heinrich Heine, 1823

Die Lorelei

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin,
Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt,
Im Abendsonnenschein.

Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr gold'nes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar,
Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme,
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewalt'ge Melodei.

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe,
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'.
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn,
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen,
Die Loreley getan.


Heinrich Heine

from Joel Weishaus

Came across the following this morning in New River. http://www.cddc.vt.edu/journals/newriver/

It's Ed Falco's introduction to my collaboration with Alan Sondheim. Hadn't read it before, neither had Alan:


In “Cybermidrash,” Alan Sondheim and Joel Weishaus, two well-known figures in the world of hypertext, offer up a collage of speculation, observation, analysis, and commentary, using a sentence from the philosopher and Talmudic commentator Emmanuel Levinas (1906-1995) as a starting point. The Talmud is commonly cited as a conceptual precursor to digital writing. One moves through all the various interpretations (Mishnah) and commentaries (Gemara), the argument goes, very much as one moves through the various links of a hypertext. In “Cybermidrash,” Sondheim and Weishaus create a similar reading experience. For those of you who might wonder how to read their work, Sondheim provides a generous hint in one of his entries:
read as chanting or singing together, inread as: primordial sound, plasma, a1-supernova, universal chaostending towards coherency.

Creative collaborations are commonplace now in the making of hypertexts. In the work of Su and Lee, and Sondheim and Weishaus, we have two striking examples of how fruitful collaboration can be in the growing realm of digital writing.

Ed Falco
November, 2003


_____
Joel Weishaus

Jerry McGuire

date
Feb 5, 2007 6:06 PM

subject
yr hero for breast cancer

mailed-by
louisiana.edu


Having lied about my overall health to the organizers of this year's five-kilometer "race" [that is, in my case, walk] on March 17th to raise money for breast cancer research, and figuring I might not survive this one, I thought I'd drop a note to all my layabout friends to encourage them to make a contribution out of respect for my heroic sacrifice. I'm attaching the standard blurb below. Maybe you could forward this part of it to some of your friends, see if they want to send a contribution. Our English department "team" got the most cash contributions last year (I wasn't part of it then), so I'm hoping the Goddess helps us cash in. (Of course, if you want me to take it down, just let me know.)But first, a confidential note to the men on my list (meet me at camera three): fellows, let's be realistic. Given all our shoddy performances and bad behavior through the years, we've put ourselves in a very sticky position. The way I see it, to get women on our side for our probable bout with testicular cancer and our inevitable date with our prostate, we'll have to humor them by giving money for breast cancer now. So think of this as an investment in your own sorry old age--and don't skip, or they'll never let me live it down.

Cheers,
Jerry

Please help in the fight against breast cancer by sponsoring me in the 2007 Komen Acadiana Race for the Cure. You can do this in 3 easy steps.
1.Go to komenacadiana.kintera.org and click on "Donate to a Participant."
2.Select my name from the Participant List. And you'll have to type it in immediately afterwards: Jerry McGuire.
3.Enter the amount of your donation and your credit card information.

________________________________________________________

_________
Jerry McGuire
English Department Box 44691
University of Louisiana at Lafayette
Lafayette LA 70504-4691
337-482-5478
Creative Writing Website:
http://www.louisiana.edu/Academic/LiberalArts/ENGL/Creative/Index.html

50 years of concrete poetry

With Geof Huth, Gregory Vincent Thomasino, mIEKAL aND, Luc Fierens, Nikos Vassilakis, ...
see here

Deposition by Lucio Fontana

from this site

Lucio Fontana

acknowledging this site

Jeff Harrison

.
.
.
.


--'-,-:@ nhan @:-,-'-- than
@:-'-,-- tnan --'-:-,@
@:-,-'-- thnn @:-'-,--
maze --'-:-,@ mane --'-@-:,
@:-'-,-- than --'-:-,@
mate --'-@-:, made --'-:-@,
--'-:-,@ ahan --'-@-:, thhn
--'-:-@, taan @--,-':-
--'-@-:, than --'-:-@,
made @--,-':- maps ':-,-@--
--'-:-@, thaa @--,-':- thah
':-,-@-- hhan :-,-'--@ ...


.
.
.
.

__________________
copyright Jeff Harrison

Happy Birthday to Alan Sondheim

February 3 1943

Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to Alan
Happy birthday to me

from the 406 manatees killed this year
from the starving polar bearsf
rom the hundreds of thousands of Iraqi dead
from the victims of famine and hurricanes
from those slaughtered by death squads
from my dead mother
from those born of tornados and floods
from those, those burned alive
Happy birthday to me

from my partner and friends
Happy birthday to me

Alan Sondheim

the aim of suffering

suffering _the aim of suffering
a suffocating medieval seal staining our souls
senseless guilt stemming from sound sacramentarianism
sacriligious sin instead of the sacred cow
scared of scintillating scarlets since schizoid schisms
Scorpionic scorn sentenced to sedated seizures
Sapphic verses to static self-sacrificing criticism
semi-diurnal to semi-nocturnal
semi-nocturnal to semi-diurnal

cracks

Tu quoque fili mii
Julius Caesar

cracks backwards are no games
reason can little
or nothing at all
discourse _images to cancel /hide
may accelerate /widen a process to the now
as it was before the arrest
fall is there in its repeated crab-like pattern
mining down your strength

KAETHE KOLLWITZ

The miserable life of Käthe Kollwitz
WW I and II took her son* and her grandson with them
the Nazis bombed her home
she shows us the desperation of women
etching and emery abrasing
the death of men
in Ein Weberaufstand (the riot of the weavers)
the man on the right _hat in his hands_ can’t even stand up right
one women in front of him in black hers the face of death
the other curled down over the corpse of her man
people conspiring in dirty taverns
spider webs entwined with quick lines one into the other
to indicate levels of darkness
her Plowman drags in a last almost horizontal effort
a wheelbarrow, him element of the field _striped like the horizon
in the sky of one of the seven papers for the War of the Farmers
the black flag high in the sky wants the naked woman
scythes and arms raised
another woman but fiery
when they attack
the face of a kid in the first row his foot naked
another distinguishable face is sick & dumb
another the image of deprivation and mean
they are a storm of straight and curved lines legs arms
a disruptive force
under the incitement of Fury’s command
the vertical captives
as a bunch of matches
carved-in hands shirts pants


* Peter, buried in the Vladslo German Cemetery, Diskmuide, Belgium, with The Mourning Parents, two statues by KK. and a cross now in the Flanders Fields Museum in Ypres, Belgium.

KAETHE KOLLWITZ

Sixth and last paper of Ein Weberaufstand (the Weavers' Riot), The End, 1987
Etching, 243x454mm (etching), 350x454mm (paper)

________________________


CONSPIRACY, 1898
Etching, 457x312mm (etching), 457x317mm (paper)
Bergamo, Ceribelli Gallery


_____________________________

Etching, The Plowmen, 1906
Milan, private collection

KAETHE KOLLWITZ

The Captives, 1908
Milan, private collection




The Bauernkrieg cycle (the war of the farmers) : Assualt, 1902/1903
Etching, 485x572mm (etching), 512x593mm (print), 557x725mm (paper)
Bergamo, Ceribelli Gallery




The Bauernkrieg cycle: RIOT, 1899
Etching, 280x300mm (etching), 291x320mm (print), 440x560mm (paper)
Bergamo, Ceribelli Gallery

FULL MOON

FULL MOON 100%
says the icon bottom left on this blog

don't know but it always surprises me when something is just this perfect!

from Andrew Lundwall

The eighth issue of melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks is live, featuringwork by:

Brandon Brown – Daniel Knudsen – James Belflower – Jared Stanley – Jen Tynes- Larry Sawyer – Sasha West – William Allegrezza

mtd is a biweekly online poetry journal edited by Andrew Lundwall and Francois Luong.

http://mtd.celaine.com

expressive means

In Candle Dancers skin is pink hair thick red_black eyes & lips red
movement disorderly undoing forms too long hands to paint frenzy
Rousseau’s naïve strokes to get Mary to die in Egypt a lion kneeling
his masks in still lives are faces his faces are masks _gruesome
his landscapes are human beings his beings are spots of color
green with red with white with lemon yellow with blue with orange
die Brűcke wanted him & the second Blaue Reiter _Paul Klee
saw _the falcon_ in him _the Lied the mole the dolmen
yellow or red skin for wild dances the Expressionist transformed
in etchings, the oil density of it, watercolors _unpainted pictures
violet skies and melon hills blue fields transparent flowers
the son of Caravaggio who loved Leonardo
Emil Nolde

b.8/7/1867 on a farm in North Schleswig near Nolde _ d.4/15/1956

I am here when I was there
where you are when you are not
always half one third one fourth
fractioned and perplexed amazed and exteroplexed

Thomas Merton

Thomas Merton made the following entry in his journals on January 31, 1965, his 50th birthday (he had been living full-time in his hermitage since August 15, 1965)

Special Reflection for January 31, 2007

“When I enter my house, I shall find rest with her, for nothing is bitter in her company; when life is shared with her there is no pain, nothing but pleasure and joy (Wisdom 8:16).”

I can imagine no greater cause for gratitude on my fiftieth birthday than that on it I wake up in a hermitage!..Last night, before going to bed, realized what solitude really means: when the ropes are cast off and the skiff is no longer tied to land but heads out to sea without ties, without restraints! Not the sea of passion but, on the contrary, the sea of purity and love that is without care. (..Through the cold and the darkness I hear the Angelus ringing at the monastery.) The beautiful jeweled shining of honey in the lamplight. Festival!