Monday, May 25, 2015

Hysterical Amnesia

No history
No repent
No surrender
No history
No repent
No surrender
No descent

No commandments on the wall
No god, no rules to scare you all

I’m here to take you forwards
You gotta kill your stupid fears

You got your whole life
You’ll need a sharp knife
Don’t wait

Cut through the system’s rules
Less is more for the fucking fools
If you wanna take the prize
You got a world to fight
Go on

Some rhythms must remain
Unbroken riots in reverse
You take the front line
I’ll find a good rhyme
Get to it

Don’t cycling to faking scores
The base is solid and in place
Just take the first cut
We’ll get the time right
Don’t wait

Use the wisdom of ancient sages
Call out for heroes
Who will be the creed
Of a new political faith

Use the language of misunderstanding
Disguise it
Occupy Wall Street
And judge the intentions of those we don’t trust

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Anchored to Imagination and Desire

Ath. Let us look at the matter thus: May we not conceive each of us living beings to be a puppet of the Gods, either their plaything only, or created with a purpose-which of the two we cannot certainly know? But we do know, that these affections in us are like cords and strings, which pull us different and opposite ways, and to opposite actions; and herein lies the difference between virtue and vice. According to the argument there is one among these cords which every man ought to grasp and never let go, but to pull with it against all the rest; and this is the sacred and golden cord of reason, called by us the common law of the State; there are others which are hard and of iron, but this one is soft because golden; and there are several other kinds. Now we ought always to cooperate with the lead of the best, which is law. For inasmuch as reason is beautiful and gentle, and not violent, her rule must needs have ministers in order to help the golden principle in vanquishing the other principles. And thus the moral of the tale about our being puppets will not have been lost, and the meaning of the expression "superior or inferior to a man's self" will become clearer; and the individual, attaining to right reason in this matter of pulling the strings of the puppet, should live according to its rule; while the city, receiving the same from some god or from one who has knowledge of these things, should embody it in a law, to be her guide in her dealings with herself and with other states. In this way virtue and vice will be more clearly distinguished by us. And when they have become clearer, education and other institutions will in like manner become clearer; and in particular that question of convivial entertainment, which may seem, perhaps, to have been a very trifling matter, and to have taken a great many more words than were necessary.

Cle. Perhaps, however, the theme may turn out not to be unworthy of the length of discourse.
-Plato, "Laws"
Salvador Dali, "The Javanese Mannequin"

Friday, May 22, 2015

Chasing the Muse


Music rots when it gets too far from the dance. Poetry atrophies when it gets too far from music.
~Ezra Pound

Swing Noir

Tree, tree
dry and green.

The girl with the pretty face
is out picking olives.
The wind, playboy of towers,
grabs her around the waist.

Four riders passed by
on Andalusian ponies,
with blue and green jackets
and big, dark capes.
'Come to Cordoba, muchacha.'
The girl won't listen to them.

Three young bullfighters passed,
slender in the waist,
with jackets the color of oranges
and swords of ancient silver.
'Come to Sevilla, muchacha.'
The girl won't listen to them.

When the afternoon had turned
dark brown, with scattered light,
a young man passed by, wearing
roses and myrtle of the moon.
'Come to Granada, inuchacha.'
And the girl won't listen to him.

The girl with the pretty face
keeps on picking olives
with the grey arm of the wind
wrapped around her waist.

Tree, tree
dry and green.
- Federico GarcĂ­a Lorca

Monday, May 18, 2015

Sandbagging

If starry space no limit knows
And sun succeeds to sun,
There is no reason to suppose
Our earth the only one.
'Mid countless constellations cast
A million worlds may be,
With each a God to bless or blast
And steer to destiny.

Just think! A million gods or so
To guide each vital stream,
With over all to boss the show
A Deity supreme.
Such magnitudes oppress my mind;
From cosmic space it swings;
So ultimately glad to find
Relief in little things.

For look! Within my hollow hand,
While round the earth careens,
I hold a single grain of sand
And wonder what it means.
Ah! If I had the eyes to see,
And brain to understand,
I think Life's mystery might be
Solved in this grain of sand.
Robert William Service

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Within the Wave

It mounts at sea, a concave wall
Down-ribbed with shine,
And pushes forward, building tall
Its steep incline.

Then from their hiding rise to sight
Black shapes on boards
Bearing before the fringe of white
It mottles towards.

Their pale feet curl, they poise their weight
With a learn’d skill.
It is the wave they imitate
Keeps them so still.

The marbling bodies have become
Half wave, half men,
Grafted it seems by feet of foam
Some seconds, then,

Late as they can, they slice the face
In timed procession:
Balance is triumph in this place,
Triumph possession.

The mindless heave of which they rode
A fluid shelf
Breaks as they leave it, falls and, slowed,
Loses itself.

Clear, the sheathed bodies slick as seals
Loosen and tingle;
And by the board the bare foot feels
The suck of shingle.

They paddle in the shallows still;
Two splash each other;
Then all swim out to wait until
The right waves gather.
- Thom Gunn, "From the Wave"

Friday, May 1, 2015

On King Tammany

Weminitis tamenend sakimanep nekohatami
Eluwiwulit matemenend wemi linapi nitis payat
Wtenk wulitma maskansisil sakimanep w'tamaganat.


All being friendly, the Affable was chief, the first of that name.
He was very good, this Affable, and came as a friend to all the Lenape.
After this good one, Strong-Buffalo was chief and pipe-bearer.

---

Lappi tamenend sakimanepit wemi langundit.
Wemi nitis wemi takwicken sakima kichwon.


Again an Affable was chief, and made peace with all,
All were friends, all were united under this great chief.
Kwanio Che Keeteru!