She dwells with Beauty--Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Hey, indentations of the left hand margin seem to get stripped off after one hits the post button. This makes it impossible to duplicate the original typography of Keats' great odes. Is this a problem for anyone else? Is this blog a halfway house or a lonely hearts club? Nice fort.
It was a problem for me, viz above, when I tried to build a fort out of dashes and underlines and pipes and equal marks. I'm sure someone clever could have figured it out.
the "pre" html tag allows use of preformatted text, otherwise browsers strip out "unnecessary" white space
The Poor Poet
The first movement is singing,
A free voice, filling mountains and valleys.
The first movement is joy,
But it is taken away.
And now that the years have transformed my blood
And thousands of planetary systems have been born and died in my flesh,
I sit, a sly and angry poet,
with malevolently squinted eyes,
and. weighing a pen in my hand,
I plot revenge.
I poise the pen and it puts forth twigs and leaves, it is covered with blossoms
And the scent of that tree is impudent, for on the real earth,
Such trees do not grow, and like an insult
To suffering humanity is the scent of that tree.
Some take refuge in despair, which is sweet
Like strong tobacco, like a glass of vodka drunk in the hour of annihilation.
Others have the hope of fools, rosy as erotic dreams.
Still others find peace in the idolatry of country,
Which can last for a long time,
Although little longer than the nineteenth century has.
But to me a cynical hope is given,
For since my eyes have opened I have seen only the glow of fires, massacres,
Only injustice, humiliation, and the laughable shame of braggarts.
To me is given the hope of revenge on others and on myself,
For I was he who knew
And took from it no profit for myself.
Czeslaw Milosz
Warsaw, 1944
I am the Gross National Product
absorb & including all things all goods Fab with Borax
Kleenex Clorox Kotex Kodak & Ex-Lax
I contain the spectacular car-crash death of the movie star Jayne Mansfield
& the quiet death of John Masefield the word star equally
the Baby Ruth no less than the Crab Nebula
I do not distinguish or discriminate the murmuring
of pine & poison The gross the great the grand National
pure products the good doc said go crazy
Lord God of Hosts I am the Gross National Product of the United States of America & here celebrate the New Fiscal Year
this fourth of July in the Lord's anno
one thousand plus one thousand minus one hundred plus fifty plus ten plus five plus three ones
in Mod. Am. Eng. ALFA DELTA 11110110000
I am the grand central Brother Jonathan & Uncle Sam
red white & blue-black all
I am first second & third persons singular & plural nominative genitive accusative & focative
absorbing & subsuming all including Mister Fats Domino
Alexander Hamilton the handsome treasurer & Gaylord Wilshire & Sylvester Graham & Mary Baker Eddy
O national product composed of compositions of all sorts of sorts
melting pot mulligan mulligatawny & huge buildings
& I reject the government as such for the government as nonesuch
& I categorically deny education religion youth communication love industry poetry & all arts
& sciences & games & nature & culture
all subordinated quite to one gross & national product in terms of
the lordly Long Green
money the only mother
money the only poetry
they say LSD in England pounds shillings pence O pounds of money
money the only gross national poem & noumenon
for it is a good thing to me including all things & by its intermediation making them all holy one & all
the cheap ugly vulgar things
& language
holy body of money the only poetry
O gross & national bills coins post stamps lard futures bonds vouchers gilt-edged blue-chip shares checks & military payment certificates & rapid-transit tokens
Treasury Holiday : Thirty-four Fits for the Opening of Fiscal Year 1968, Wesleyan 1969.
|
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
- j keats 6-25-2003 5:52 am
Hey, indentations of the left hand margin seem to get stripped off after one hits the post button. This makes it impossible to duplicate the original typography of Keats' great odes. Is this a problem for anyone else? Is this blog a halfway house or a lonely hearts club? Nice fort.
- Sir Felix Chatterton (guest) 6-29-2003 7:16 pm [add a comment]
It was a problem for me, viz above, when I tried to build a fort out of dashes and underlines and pipes and equal marks. I'm sure someone clever could have figured it out.
- Tom G 6-30-2003 12:47 am [add a comment]
the "pre" html tag allows use of preformatted text, otherwise browsers strip out "unnecessary" white space
- mark 6-30-2003 9:34 pm [add a comment]
The Poor Poet
The first movement is singing,
A free voice, filling mountains and valleys.
The first movement is joy,
But it is taken away.
And now that the years have transformed my blood
And thousands of planetary systems have been born and died in my flesh,
I sit, a sly and angry poet,
with malevolently squinted eyes,
and. weighing a pen in my hand,
I plot revenge.
I poise the pen and it puts forth twigs and leaves, it is covered with blossoms
And the scent of that tree is impudent, for on the real earth,
Such trees do not grow, and like an insult
To suffering humanity is the scent of that tree.
Some take refuge in despair, which is sweet
Like strong tobacco, like a glass of vodka drunk in the hour of annihilation.
Others have the hope of fools, rosy as erotic dreams.
Still others find peace in the idolatry of country,
Which can last for a long time,
Although little longer than the nineteenth century has.
But to me a cynical hope is given,
For since my eyes have opened I have seen only the glow of fires, massacres,
Only injustice, humiliation, and the laughable shame of braggarts.
To me is given the hope of revenge on others and on myself,
For I was he who knew
And took from it no profit for myself.
Czeslaw Milosz
Warsaw, 1944
- Tom G 7-03-2003 3:25 pm [add a comment]
I am the Gross National Product
absorb & including all things all goods Fab with Borax
Kleenex Clorox Kotex Kodak & Ex-Lax
I contain the spectacular car-crash death of the movie star Jayne Mansfield
& the quiet death of John Masefield the word star equally
the Baby Ruth no less than the Crab Nebula
I do not distinguish or discriminate the murmuring
of pine & poison The gross the great the grand National
pure products the good doc said go crazy
Lord God of Hosts I am the Gross National Product of the United States of America & here celebrate the New Fiscal Year
this fourth of July in the Lord's anno
one thousand plus one thousand minus one hundred plus fifty plus ten plus five plus three ones
in Mod. Am. Eng. ALFA DELTA 11110110000
I am the grand central Brother Jonathan & Uncle Sam
red white & blue-black all
I am first second & third persons singular & plural nominative genitive accusative & focative
absorbing & subsuming all including Mister Fats Domino
Alexander Hamilton the handsome treasurer & Gaylord Wilshire & Sylvester Graham & Mary Baker Eddy
O national product composed of compositions of all sorts of sorts
melting pot mulligan mulligatawny & huge buildings
& I reject the government as such for the government as nonesuch
& I categorically deny education religion youth communication love industry poetry & all arts
& sciences & games & nature & culture
all subordinated quite to one gross & national product in terms of
the lordly Long Green
money the only mother
money the only poetry
they say LSD in England pounds shillings pence O pounds of money
money the only gross national poem & noumenon
for it is a good thing to me including all things & by its intermediation making them all holy one & all
the cheap ugly vulgar things
& language
holy body of money the only poetry
O gross & national bills coins post stamps lard futures bonds vouchers gilt-edged blue-chip shares checks & military payment certificates & rapid-transit tokens
Treasury Holiday : Thirty-four Fits for the Opening of Fiscal Year 1968, Wesleyan 1969.
- William Harmon (guest) 7-04-2003 9:00 pm [add a comment] [edit]