what is getting you so down
dad thinking, not dissuaded, that that must have been a loss. the loss. but it feels, and maybe this does not mean it was not, but it feels, it does, like what I look for, like when I feel better. 'the moment of connection' ( is it an "intervention" when you speak?) -- the girl lying with the goose, menagerie, all of creation offended -all of creation responding- in this distress. the keening of the moon, sometimes, rising. it means this: this miracle among the animals.
mc with his 'what would it mean to...?' to have your formative moment, identification, your formation, be this. it means that I am saying, to Jaime, that I want my government to have in mind the moment when we crawl from the rubble, look around, come together, say: what now.
loss. but when this is that which, if lost, would leave me inconsolable. alone, not understanding that anyone is there or will return, then shall we not call that the loss and find another word for this.
inconsolable 2
all the silver in the kitchen would someday be Carol's and if my mother wanted it more than everything, if she picked the first star in the sky every night of her life and wished, she still could not have it, ever.
p.128 my copy Anywhere but Here
that is not what I meant, at all.
(she still could not have it, ever.)
and if I went to the gym everyday, and I ran and I swam, and I ate no sweets, I still would not have another body. I'd still have this body, this deformity.
Frog Hospital on Page 32: ... for the love that as children they had desired so, sought so, distorted themselves so to get but never got. I once rode eighty blocks with a cabbie who kept saying over and over, "And he never hugged me, and he never kissed me," until by Eighth Street he was weeping and I had to get out. It was unbearable.
on Page 130: ...It is unacceptable, all the stunned and anzious missing a person is asked to endure in life. It is not to be endured, not really.
inconsolable 1
...a little boy of two sobbing his heart out, leaning with his face against a screen door of his house. or behind a curtain or a tree; or lying face down on the floor. in our nursery school years ago, a little boy hid in the empty fireplace, unreachable, broken-hearted, his first day away from his mother--two years old, not understanding that she would return.
inconsolable
the immense, illiterate, consoling angels.
the giraffe with his head cocked petulantly, weeping, hold me.
becominginvolved a woman lies down with a goose. they love each other. bliss, terribly private. quietly deathly quiet. away.
privateness - an oval pond in the park and they sit down by it, sorry for the ducks but not for themselves.
privilegeofbeing - somewhere a man and a woman are making love up above the angels my love this morning as much as you...
All of creation in offended by this distress. It is like the keening sound the moon makes sometimes, rising.
menagerie - although it would mean this, this miracle among the souls of animals. And you.
3 comments:
angels
Mein Flügel ist zum Schwung bereit,
ich kehrte gern zurück,
denn blieb ich auch lebendige Zeit,
ich hätte wenig Glück.
Gerherd Scholem,
‘Gruss vom Angelus’
A Klee painting named ‘Angelus Novus’ shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such a violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.
My wing is for flight ready
I (wld) turn happily back. (I wld like to turn back.)
If stay I also living(?) time
I (wld) have little luck.
translated as:
My wing is ready for flight,
I would like to turn back.
If I stayed timeless* time,
I would have little luck.
*lebendige - timeless? ~ Zeitlos
Benjamin. On the Concept of History.
But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such a violence that the angel can no longer close them.
oh-
Auden:
Every beautiful poem presents an analogy to the forgiveness of sins.
The effect of beauty is good to the degree that the possibility of regaining paradise through repentance and forgiveness is recognized. Its effect is evil to the degree that beauty is taken, not as analogous to, but identical with goodness ... and the conclusion drawn that, since all is well in the work of art, all is well in history. But all is not well there.
[The Dyer's Hand, 71]
why would the storm that is progress be blowing in "from Paradise"?
Maybe something like "LOST" "paradise" . . .?
Odysseus' Decision
The great man turns his back on the island.
Now he will not die in paradise
nor hear again
the lutes of paradise among the olive trees,
by the clear pools under the cypresses. Time
begins now, in which he hears again
that pulse which is the narrative
sea, ar dawn when its pull is stongest.
What has brought us here
will lead us away; our ship
sways in the tined harbor water.
Now the spell is ended.
Giove him back his life,
sea that can only move forward.
Gluck
hello
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