Trouble That is what the Odyssey means. Love can leave you nowhere in New Mexico raising peacocks for the rest of your life. The seriously happy heart is a problem. Not the easy excitement, but summer in the Mediterranean mixed with the rain and bitter cold of February on the Riviera, everything on fire in… Continue reading Jack Gilbert
The crows maintain that a single crow could destroy the heavens. There is no doubt of that, but it proves nothing against the heavens, for heaven simply means: the impossibility of crows. — Franz Kafka, The Zürau Aphorisms. (Schocken; 1st American Ed edition, December 26, 2006) Originally published 1931.
My sadness waves back like the heads of grain in another’s fields, it cannot be combined, and no one is hungry. — Frank Stanford, from “Frank Stanford Calls Back to the Owl Who Lives a Hundred Years,” What About This: Collected Poems of Frank Stanford (Copper Canyon Press, 2015)
One shouldn’t place too high a premium on predictability. After all, the most stable state of all is death. We stay chaotic for as long as we can, postponing the inevitable last output. — Rudy Rucker, The Lifebox, the Seashell, and the Soul. What Gnarly Computation Taught Me About Ultimate Reality, the Meaning of Life,… Continue reading Rudy Rucker
The shadow covers the outer petals The wind makes off with the final gestures of leaves The foreign, now twice-silenced sea inside a summer pitied for its lights A longing from here A memory from there — Alejandra Pizarnik, from “Dusk,” Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 – 1972 (New Directions, 2016)
Destiny never consists in step-by-step deterministic relations between presents which succeed one another according to the order of a represented time. Rather, it implies between successive presents non-localisable connections, actions at a distance, systems of replay, resonance and echoes, objective chances, signs, signals, and roles which transcend spatial locations and temporal successions. — Gilles Deleuze,… Continue reading Gilles Deleuze
Go blind at once, today: eternity too is full of eyes— what helped the images overcome their coming drowns there; there the fire goes out of what spirited you away from language with a gesture you let happen like the waltz of two words made of pure fall, silk, and nothing. — Paul Celan, from… Continue reading Paul Celan