This Whole Beast Self: Another Beat Poet Gone

 

 

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Post-Modern Music

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Each a Crowded Vessel Drifting Alone into the Unknown

“Whatever became of the moment when one first knew about death? There must have been one. A moment. In childhood. When it first occurred to you that you don’t go on forever. Must have been shattering. Stamped into one’s memory. And yet, I can’t remember it. It never occurred to me at all. We must be born with an intuition of mortality. Before we know the word for it. Before we know that there are words. Out we come, bloodied and squalling, with the knowledge that for all the points of the compass, there’s only one direction. And time is its only measure.”

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

‎Tom Stoppard

 

 

Listen: you are not yourself, you are crowds of others, you are as leaky a vessel as was ever made…

Rebecca Solnit

The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either—but right through every human heart, and even in the best of all hearts, there remains…an uprooted small corner of evil.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago

 

It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done

— Vincent Van Gogh

 Old Selves

 

Ok, I no longer want them,

the many selves I had to manage

that exhausted everyone. I believed in

angels then, thought I might be

 

one — that would be me,

flying off on a tangent, just to land

 

on someone’s balcony.

But so little could I see from there

I longed for company with wings:

too often I took flight

 

just to feel the air slap my cheek.

by Ira Sadoff, From Country, Living

Posted in All part of the process, anthropology, banality of evil, Being Human, Chaos and Order, hidden places, internal landscape, mindworks, Other peoples words, philosophy, poetry, thinking in words | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

2 Wild Poems

SOMETIMES
by David Whyte

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest,
breathing
like the ones
in the old stories,
who could cross
a shimmering bed of leaves
without a sound,
you come to a place
whose only task
is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests,
conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.
Requests to stop what
you are doing right now,
and
to stop what you
are becoming
while you do it,
questions
that can make
or unmake
a life,
questions
that have patiently
waited for you,
questions
that have no right
to go away.

Posted in All part of the process, Art in Nature, Check this out, developing relationships, hidden places, Life with Animals, mindworks, Other peoples words, paying attention, poetry, Walking, whereever you go there you are, Wild Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Seeing Music in the Makers #2

Making Joyful Noise

Posted in All part of the process, Being Human, bodyworks, capturing light, Check this out, music, scenes on screens | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment