solaciolum: King of Night Vision, King of Insight (Default)
Time Traveler Extraordinaire

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solaciolum: Yoshitaka Amano Tarot: The Fool (fool)
Friday, April 22nd, 2011 09:52 pm
Well, it's sort of an annual tradition now, isn't it? I spent the whole day baking (carrot cake, pryaniki, strawberry galette) so this feels particularly appropriate, even if I didn't actually make braided bread. I meant to do other things, but doing things has been difficult lately, and baking is always a comfort.

Revised a little bit from last year, though not too noticeably.

good friday )
solaciolum: King of Night Vision, King of Insight (galileo)
Friday, April 30th, 2010 11:08 pm
End of the month! I should have posted more, but eh.

These are both things that I have posted elsewhere, in various forms, but they are both things that are vital to me in some way or another.  Someday, I will get tattoos of these poems- the Mayakovsky in the original Russian, on my back, and the Pound on my ribcage, framing my right breast.

excerpt from "A Cloud in Trousers"
by Vladimir Mayakovsky

я знаю -
солнце померкло б, увидев
нашизх душ золотые россыпи!

I know-
the sun itself would dim, if it could see
the gold fields of our souls!

Notes from Canto CXX
by Ezra Pound

I have tried to write Paradise.

Do not move.
          Let the wind speak.
                   That is paradise.

Let the Gods forgive what I
          have made

Let those I love try to forgive
          what I have made.
solaciolum: Watching the river roll... (get up jonah)
Saturday, April 17th, 2010 10:12 pm
Poem Written by the Sea
by Hu'u Thinh

When you're far away
The moon too is alone,
The sun alone,
The sea, proud of its vastness,
Is quick to be lonely
                          when briefly without sails.

The wind is not a whip, but still erodes the mountainsides.
You are not an evening, but dye me violet.

A wave goes nowhere
                            if it isn't bringing you back.

Even so,
It staggers me
Because of you.

Translation from Vietnamese by George Evans and Nguyen Qui Duc

solaciolum: Six String Samurai, the Four Guitarists of the Apocalypse, "Nice Shoes" (nice shoes)
Monday, April 12th, 2010 10:12 am
I'm doing that thing that I do where I look at my gmail tab in firefox and then very surreptitiously hide it under my thumb and pretend it isn't there. This is not productive in any way, except for the way that it gets fingerprints on my screen. >_< Going to try to rectify this and respond to email soon, but I figure a heads up is in order.

I also feel like it is time for some Chesterton. And so:

The Last Hero
by G.K. Chesterton

The wind blew out from Bergen from the dawning to the day,
There was a wreck of trees and fall of towers a score of miles away,
And drifted like a livid leaf I go before its tide,
Spewed out of house and stable, beggared of flag and bride.
The heavens are bowed about my head, shouting like seraph wars,
With rains that might put out the sun and clean the sky of stars,
Rains like the fall of ruined seas from secret worlds above,
The roaring of the rains of God none but the lonely love.
Feast in my hall, O foemen, and eat and drink and drain,
You never loved the sun in heaven as I have loved the rain.

The chance of battle changes -- so may all battle be;
I stole my lady bride from them, they stole her back from me.
I rent her from her red-roofed hall, I rode and saw arise,
More lovely than the living flowers the hatred in her eyes.
She never loved me, never bent, never was less divine;
The sunset never loved me, the wind was never mine.
Was it all nothing that she stood imperial in duresse?
Silence itself made softer with the sweeping of her dress.

The wind blew out from Bergen to the dawning of the day )
solaciolum: Watching the river roll... (get up jonah)
Wednesday, April 7th, 2010 06:25 pm
Meditation on the Word Need
by Linda Rodriguez

The problem with words of emotion
is how easily meaning drains
from their fiddle-sweet sounds
and they become empty instruments.
I can say love
and mean desire to give—
open-handed, open-hearted—
or I am drawn to the light
shining from your soul—
or my life is empty without you—
or I want to run my hands
and mouth down the length of you—
or all of these at once.

Need, now, is a plain word.
I need a nail to hang this picture.
I need money to pay my bills.
I need air and light,
water and food,
shelter from storm and sun and cold.
To be healthy,
to be sane,
to survive,
I need you.
solaciolum: Edward and Anna perform The Invention of Love, with added Spooniness (spoony bard)
Friday, April 2nd, 2010 10:39 pm
First, because it's appropriate and Eliot will always be my favorite: East Coker by T.S. Eliot.

Second, because I'm in a mildly exhibitionist sort of mood:

(still more or less untitled)

take this bread that once was dough )
solaciolum: Yoshitaka Amano Tarot: The Fool (fool)
Thursday, April 1st, 2010 01:17 am
Our Lady Peace
by Mark van Doren

How far is it to peace, the piper sighed,
The solitary, sweating as he paused.
Asphalt the noon; the ravens, terrified,
Fled carrion thunder that percussion caused.

The envelope of earth was powder loud;
The taut wings shivered, driven at the sun.
The piper put his pipe away and bowed.
Not here, he said. I hunt the love-cool one,

The dancer with the clipped hair. Where is she?
We shook our heads, parting for him to pass.
Our lady was of no such trim degree,
And none of us had seen her face, alas.

She was the very ridges that we must scale,
Securing the rough top. And how she smiled
Was how our strength would issue. Not to fail
Was having her, gigantic, undefiled,

For homely goddess, big as the world that burned,
Grandmother and taskmistress, frild and town.
We let the stranger go; but when we turned
Our lady lived, fierce in each other's frown.

(This is not, actually, the Mark van Doren poem with which I wanted to start National Poetry Month- sadly, I don't have "Another Music" immediately on hand.)