December 29, 2012
December 24, 2012
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary’s heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world’s desire.)
The Christ-child stood on Mary’s knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.
FIXITY
hilosophy, poem, poems, poetry, poets, secret, streams of consciousness, T.S. ELIOT, talk, thoughts, time, visions, wisdom, wise up, writing — namelessneed @ 8:09 am Edit This
It’s that
T.S. Eliot
Went on and on
About the here and now clock,
Taking disjointed, angled notions.
I’m not talking about Prufrock,
But Burnt Norton.
.
It’s that
This idiot (here)
Wants one and all
To ride to just this side of shock.
Close eyes. Close in on seas and oceans.
I’m not talking about
Anything that can be talked out.
.
& for sure,
Don’t confuse my composure
For knowing the now.
.
.
.
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity, Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards, Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance. I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where. And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time. The inner freedom from the practical desire, The release from action and suffering, release from the inner And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving, Erhebung without motion, concentration Without elimination, both a new world And the old made explicit, understood In the completion of its partial ecstasy, The resolution of its partial horror. Yet the enchainment of past and future Woven in the weakness of the changing body, Protects mankind from heaven and damnation Which flesh cannot endure. Time past and time future Allow but a little consciousness. To be conscious is not to be in time But only in time can the moment in the rose-garden, The moment in the arbour where the rain beat, The moment in the draughty church at smokefall Be remembered; involved with past and future. Only through time time is conquered.
-T.S. Eliot, from “Four Quartets, Burnt Norton
.
.
Erhebung
Er•he•bung f
Translation German – English Collins Dictionary
December 19, 2012
Leavings…
One lovely lesson on POV,
Access its excellence
Andres Dubus reflects:
“Between isolation and harmony, there is not always a vast distance. Sometimes it is a distance that can be traversed in a moment, by choosing to focus on the essence of what is occurring, rather than on its exterior: its difficulty or beauty, its demands or joy, peace or grief, passion or humor. This is not a matter of courage or discipline or will; it is a receptive condition…”
– “Sacraments”, excerpted from Meditations from a Movable Chair [buy | borrow]
yellow
c Jeff Kopito
Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances 