(1954-2012)

 

 

 

 

Someone – By Dennis O’Driscoll

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

someone is dressing up for death today, a change of skirt or tie
eating a final feast of buttered sliced pan, tea
scarcely having noticed the erection that was his last
shaving his face to marble for the icy laying out
spraying with deodorant her coarse armpit grass
someone today is leaving home on business
saluting, terminally, the neighbours who will join in the cortège
someone is paring his nails for the last time, a precious moment
someone’s waist will not be marked with elastic in the future
someone is putting out milk bottles for a day that will not come
someone’s fresh breath is about to be taken clean away
someone is writing a cheque that will be rejected as ‘drawer deceased’
someone is circling posthumous dates on a calendar
someone is listening to an irrelevant weather forecast
someone is making rash promises to friends
someone’s coffin is being sanded, laminated, shined
who feels this morning quite as well as ever
someone if asked would find nothing remarkable in today’s date
perfume and goodbyes her final will and testament
someone today is seeing the world for the last time
as innocently as he had seen it first

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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song by leonard cohen e buffy st. marie

God is alive; Magic is afoot
God is alive; Magic is afoot
God is afoot; Magic is alive
Alive is afoot
Magic never died
God never sickened
many poor men lied
many sick men lied
Magic never weakened
Magic never hid
Magic always ruled
God is afoot
God never died.
God was ruler
though his funeral lengthened
Though his mourners thickened
Magic never fled
Though his shrouds were hoisted
the naked God did live
Though his words were twisted
the naked Magic thrived
Though his death was published
round and round the world
the heart did not believe
Many hurt men wondered
many struck men bled
Magic never faltered
Magic always led.
Many stones were rolled
but God would not lie down
Many wild men lied
many fat men listened
Though they offered stones
Magic still was fed
Though they locked their coffers
God was always served.
Magic is afoot. God rules.
Alive is afoot. Alive is in command.
Many weak men hungered
Many strong men thrived
Though they boasted solitude
God was at their side
Nor the dreamer in his cell
nor the captain on the hill
Magic is alive
Though his death was pardoned
round and round the world
the heart did not believe.
Though laws were carved in marble
they could not shelter men
Though altars built in parliaments
they could not order men
Police arrested Magic
and Magic went with them,
for Magic loves the hungry.
But Magic would not tarry
it moves from arm to arm
it would not stay with them
Magic is afoot
it cannot come to harm
it rests in an empty palm
it spawns in an empty mind
but Magic is no instrument
Magic is the end.
Many men drove Magic
but Magic stayed behind
Many strong men lied
they only passed through Magic
and out the other side
Many weak men lied
they came to God in secret
and though they left him nourished
they would not say who healed
Though mountains danced before them
they said that God was dead
Though his shrouds were hoisted
the naked God did live
This I mean to whisper to my mind
This I mean to laugh with in my mind
This I mean my mind to serve 'til
service is but Magic
moving through the world
and mind itself is Magic
coursing through the flesh
and flesh itself is Magic
dancing on a clock
and time itself the magic length of God.

'tis the season

 

 

 

 

             The Gentiles Bless Zion

 

 

 Arise, shine;

For your light has come!

      And the glory of the Lord is risen upon you.

² For behold, the darkness shall cover the earth,
     And deep darkness the people;
       But the Lord will arise over you,
        And His glory will be seen upon you.
³ The Gentiles shall come to your light,
   And kings to the brightness of your rising.

⁴ “Lift up your eyes all around, and see:
     They all gather together, they come to you;
      Your sons shall come from afar,
      And your daughters shall be nursed at your side.
⁵ Then you shall see and become radiant,
    And your heart shall swell with joy;
     Because the abundance of the sea shall be turned to you,
      The wealth of the Gentiles shall come to you.
⁶ The multitude of camels shall cover your land,
   The dromedaries of Midian and Ephah;
    All those from Sheba shall come;
     They shall bring gold and incense,
      And they shall proclaim the praises of the Lord.
⁷ All the flocks of Kedar shall be gathered together to you,
   The rams of Nebaioth shall minister to you;
    They shall ascend with acceptance on My altar,
     And I will glorify the house of My glory.

⁸ “Who are these who fly like a cloud,
      And like doves to their roosts?
⁹ Surely the coastlands shall wait for Me;
    And the ships of Tarshish will come first,
     To bring your sons from afar,
       Their silver and their gold with them,
         To the name of the Lord your God,
          And to the Holy One of Israel,
           Because He has glorified you.

¹⁰ “The sons of foreigners shall build up your walls,
       And their kings shall minister to you;
         For in My wrath I struck you,
          But in My favor I have had mercy on you.
¹¹ Therefore your gates shall be open continually;
     They shall not be shut day or night,
       That men may bring to you the wealth of the Gentiles,
         And their kings in procession.
¹² For the nation and kingdom which will not serve you shall perish,
     And those nations shall be utterly ruined.

¹³ “The glory of Lebanon shall come to you,
       The cypress, the pine, and the box tree together,
         To beautify the place of My sanctuary;
          And I will make the place of My feet glorious.
¹⁴ Also the sons of those who afflicted you
     Shall come bowing to you,
     And all those who despised you shall fall prostrate at the soles of your feet;
      And they shall call you The City of the Lord,
       Zion of the Holy One of Israel.

¹⁵ “Whereas you have been forsaken and hated,
       So that no one went through you,
         I will make you an eternal excellence,
          A joy of many generations.
¹⁶ You shall drink the milk of the Gentiles,
     And milk the breast of kings;
       You shall know that I, the Lord, am your Savior
        And your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob.

¹⁷ “Instead of bronze I will bring gold,
       Instead of iron I will bring silver,
         Instead of wood, bronze,
          And instead of stones, iron.
            I will also make your officers peace,
             And your magistrates righteousness.
¹⁸ Violence shall no longer be heard in your land,
      Neither wasting nor destruction within your borders;
        But you shall call your walls Salvation,
          And your gates Praise.

¹⁹ “The sun shall no longer be your light by day,
       Nor for brightness shall the moon give light to you;
        But the Lord will be to you an everlasting light,
          And your God your glory.
²⁰ Your sun shall no longer go down,
      Nor shall your moon withdraw itself;
       For the Lord will be your everlasting light,
        And the days of your mourning shall be ended.
²¹ Also your people shall all be righteous;
      They shall inherit the land forever,
         The branch of My planting,
           The work of My hands,
             That I may be glorified.
²² A little one shall become a thousand,
        And a small one a strong nation.
          I,     the Lord,    will hasten it in its time.”

 

 

                        ....thus singeth the prophet Isaiah - Ch.60

 

 

 

 

 

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SPORT ARTICLES

Courageous like a stamp
he went his way
tapping softly in his hands
to count his steps
his heart red as a boar
beat beat
like a pink green butterfly
Now and then
he planted a little satin flag
When he had walked a lot
he sat down to rest
and fell asleep
But since that day there have been many clouds in the sky
many birds in the trees
and there's been a lot of salt in the sea
There also have been lots of other things

Philippe Soupault,

     

         translated by Johannes Beilharz
 

        i should hope no one minds if i published this poem i declare
             "who cares"  ? 





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literature for the future

      







           Outside Of A Bar



Two languages met in combative air.
Two temperaments on a parking lot,
 
hot and moist: two myths, thrown to the
ages. Poet against novelist: embittered
 
by form and the murkiness of reefs,
which hover behind cantankerous blows.

Booze, blues and its emptiness narrows
the gap between two stunning avenues

of thought. Two drives: ego to ego,
and only the moon can be critical,

as lunar urgings grow in lunacy
the template of an image, fixated

by stand-offs; by the air and anger,

by elite curses quieted by sunset.
It was a long way from the Canoe Room

or any patrician New England place,
to this backcountry, this seaside connection,

like muscular sentences, taut and hard.
Florida: figuring hotly into two lives;

basking within notions of each one,
each one a tall and solid volcano,

driven by ashfall of meaning, of feeling,
but never like this, errant impulses

from depths which collide: stanza and phrase.
So the fight buoyed the machine of thought.

Fists of the boxer, fists of the aesthete:
Wallace, Ernest  (Jake and Crispin too)  speaking

to us,  then perhaps, to themselves,
about myriad forms of wounds;  the wounds

of life, of sailing, of erstwhile wars,
now stand like men who are mere inventions,

yet stand anyway – an odd gigantism.
Where the rain gathers,  it’s a dirty

shiny home for a massive head,
and for a large red man who likes to read.

Two thinkers: drunken by scotch and snark, 
Dismissing, out of hand, protective jambeaux

for the active legs of one, sluggish legs of another,

have ended at the point it all began,
icons at podiums of each other’s eyes.


Lamont Palmer












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Mining Camp Blues

 

 

 

  

Once I had a daddy and he went down in a hole —
Once I had a daddy and he went down in a hole —
Digging and a-hauling, hauling that Birmingham coal.

 

Many times I wondered when they took my daddy down —
Many times I wondered when they took my daddy down —
Will he come back to me? Will they leave him in the ground?

 

Something like pitcher that they sent down in the well —
Something like pitcher that they sent down in the well —
Wondering will they break it, Lordy, Lordy who can tell?

 

It was late one evening, I was standing at that mine —
It was late one evening, I was standing at that mine —
Foreman said my daddy had gone down for his last, last time.

 

He was a coal miner from his hat down to his shoes —
He was a coal miner from his hat down to his shoes —
And I'm nearly dying with these mining camp blues.

Trixie Smith
1925

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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my very rough translation of the poem

the corpse mount


large stones,  boulders on high
over the little corpse so vexed;
reduced to powder,  like unto my love,
so very sad,  so exquisite,  so grand

songs of vexation, vexed songs
where held in such a state
of impossible suffering
of the fury of these times

sleep not the ripping winds
the terrible queries of other seas
sleep not the furious birds
as seem these frequent tempests

by one small movement one time
the boulders immoveable
by one small movement one time
this forum of daily capacities

as powder,  these high boulders
and the vexed little corpse
not so different than my love
sweet,  sad,  unspeakably exquisite and grand

      -Gonzales Lopez Abente






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via negativa poetica

     
 

Faith

 

 

There is no faith; the mountain stands within
Still unrebuked, its summit reaches heaven;
And every action adds its load of sin,
For every action wants the little leaven;
There is no prayer; it is but empty sound,
That stirs with frequent breath the yielding air,
With every pulse they are more strongly bound,
Who make the blood of goats the voice of prayer;
Oh heal them, heal them, Father, with thy word,—
Their sins cry out to thee from every side;
From son and sire, from slave and master heard,
Their voices fill the desert country wide;
And bid thee hasten to relieve and save,
By him who rose triumphant o'er the grave





       -Jones Very (transcendentalist american poet,  friend of RW Emerson)

if breath were not enough

 

 

 

I LOVE YOU

 

I Love you

 like dipping bread into salt and eating

    Like waking up at night with  high fever

  and drinking water,  with the tap in my mouth

Like unwrapping the heavy box from the postman

      with no clue what it is

                fluttering ,  happy,  doubtful

I love you

     like flying over the sea in a plane for the first time

Like something moves inside me

      when it gets dark softly in Istanbul

I love you

Like thanking God that we live

 

        -Nazim Hikmet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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...

          

        
           Christmas in the Stable

The toilet on the cruise ship was closed
      For cleaning.
Toilets flushed,
      A mop banged against the door.

Waiting in the hall, I could hear the maid singing,
      "Silent night, holy night,
      All is calm...."

She cleaned my heart, renewed my spirit.



                 Jon Fagerson





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