Removing wrinkles

At times it seems to me that I am living my life backwards,
and that at the approach of old age my real youth will begin.
My soul was born covered with wrinkles—
wrinkles my ancestors and parents most assiduously put there
and that I had the greatest trouble removing.

                            Andre Gide, An Unprejudiced Mind

 

 

 

 

SIng with me

I did not come to solve anything.
I came here to sing
and for you to sing with me.

     Pablo Neruda, final lines of Let the Rail Splitter Awake

 

 

 

 

 

Realm of magic

Words have ruined more souls than any devil’s agency.

It is strange that the word,
    which is a chief ingredient of human uniqueness,
        should also be a chief instrument of its dehumanization.

The realm of magic is the realm of the invisible
    and the domain of the word.

                            Eric Hoffer, New York Times 1971

Our own invention

One of the effects of modern liberal Protestantism
    has been gradually to turn religion into poetry and therapy,
        to make truth vaguer and vaguer and more and more relative,
            to banish intellectual distinctions,
                to depend on feeling instead of thought,
                    and gradually to come to believe that God has no real power,
                        that he cannot communicate with us,
                            cannot reveal himself to us,
                                indeed has not done so
                                    and that religion is our own sweet invention.

                                                        Flannery O'Connor, The Habits of Being

Poem: Summer's Almost Gone

The squirrels are spreading the rumor: no more monkey business.

The Dow Jones hops up, then down, then back up, trying for attention,

           up against dog days.

The Capitol dome rattles like a witch doctor's gourd. “More Republicans,”

           warn the talking drums.

The networks labor underground to stockpile T, A, and blood capsules

           for Sweeps Week, when all hell won’t be enough to save some.

Pedestrians slip into light coats of pollen and mold spores.

The Enquirer reports the sighting of Satan's image over Chicago during

           the heat emergency. His words were, “For the hottest deals in town,

           see Sal at Mutto's Chevrolet on East Wacker.”

The old elms shrug: “You think this is hot: we could tell you about hot.”

Walmart and Kmart burgeon into crooked towers of back-to-school

           candy. They're heaven-bound, via the moon. Greeters offer

           themselves to the lowest common denominator. There's a Blue-

           Light on moon caps.       

Representatives from Tire City have announced they intend a hostile

           takeover and cleansing of their former territory, now known as

           Carpet City. Furniture City will not intervene.

The NFL’s negotiating for rights to the Baptist Church.

The carnies have packed up the Tilt-A-Whirl and Ferris wheel, leaving us

           up to our ass in free parking.

Everyone under 30 dreams of shoplifting some Air Jordans for school.

Everyone over 30 dreams of going to prison for shoplifting.

The hypochondriacs wake up noticing little dark spots in front of their

           eyes, think they could be in the middle of something serious.

“Winterize now,” say the prime-time commercials. “Spend, spend, spend!”

           cry the cicadas and katydids over the scorched, moonlit lawns.

 

                                                        William Trowbridge 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Say yes and hold on

One must say Yes to life,
and embrace it wherever it is found —
and it is found in terrible places. …
For nothing is fixed, forever and forever,
it is not fixed;
the earth is always shifting,
the light is always changing,
the sea does not cease to grind down rock.
Generations do not cease to be born,
and we are responsible to them
because we are the only witnesses they have.
The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other
and children cling to us.
The moment we cease to hold each other,
the moment we break faith with one another,
the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.

        James Baldwin with Richard Avedon, Nothing Personal 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A gift for living

The great Chinese poet Li Po who wrote to his friend,
the other of the greatest of the T'ang dynasty poets, Tu Fu:

    "Thank you for letting me read your new poems.
                It was like being alive twice."

                             Robert Haas, Washington Post 1996