2009/02/27
Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaachine gun
Evil man make me kill ya
Evi l ma n make you kill me
Evil ma n make me
kill you
Eve n though w ere o nly families a part
Well I pick up m y axe and fight like a bomber
you know what I mean
Hey! and you
r bullets keep k nocking me down
Hey, I pick up my a x e and fight like a bomber now
Yea h bu
the same way you shoot me down
baby
Hey machine gun
I aint afra id no more
After a while, your, your h eap talk dont even cause me pain,
So let your bullet s fly li
ke rain
cause I kno w all the time you re wrong baby
And youll be going just the same
mac h ily apart
a alright
hes bout to leave here
dont you shoot him down
hes got to stay here
he aint going nowhere
hes been shot down to the ground
oh where he cant survive no no
Yeah thats what we dont wanna hear anymore, alright?
no bullets
no guns
Huh huh
no nothin
just lets all live and live
you know
excus me .. can you tell me .. where I am... I am lost....
t ell
me
I am
I am
lost
O angels
O the time of angels
we need angels
in this crazy world
dont we
O tears
of tear
woman
O
it is tears
2009/02/26
it 's good ethel rosenberg sings- Angels in AmeriCa
i dont want to be a man
i want to be an octupus
its good for the poet to be a scent
of love
its good for a poet to be a movie
history
and love
to
to treachery
is no
treachery at all
O Re TuRns
Wrestle yer Angel!
the fun's just started..
EnTraN CE ..
In the end it's all Laughter As Dante
wrote Comedia
Jacob
my love
as
they
take me
to
thee ~
always ready
for your
ange ~
le FunAmBule ~
excerpted from
le funambule Jean Genet
---------- A funambuler. stumble foot. Not Oedpal foot. is it hoof rink? or cracked roun d edge of circus tumbling? Fumble it foot. Grace to know, knock this tongue foot ~
"Que nous importe à toi et à moi un bon acrobate, tu seras cette merveille embrasée, toi qui brûles, qui dure quelques instants. Tu brûles, sur ton fil tu es la foudre, ou si tu veux encore un danseur solitaire. Allumée je ne sais par quoi qui t'éclaire et te consume à la fois c'est une misère terrible qui te fais danser. Le public ? Il n'y voit que du feu, et croyant que tu joues, ignorant que tu es l'incendiaire, il applaudit l'incendie." Genet ~
"Oser dire ce texte est assez proche d’oser rester en vie d’oser continuer à se travailler comme pour en finir plus lentement plus lucide dans l’extrême émotion qui nous étreint à chaque lever de jour, à chaque lever de rideau, à chaque confrontation avec soi et l’autre. Une émotion sur le fil d’une certaine lucidité."
Le texte a été dit dit
dit texte
text e
dit
texte dit par Martine Amanieu, percussions : Yoann Scheidt, danse Muriel Barra
domaine de Malagar, Saint-Maixant
finding here and
there
at Intercession over-blog
___________________________________
2009/02/25
oh that moon
___________________________________________
Italy _ 1972 Alone. Avenue of
__________________ heard of poets dying there
Year before across and over Canada by thumb hitch _ ing rides. across trains and
April
1970 departure
35c ents
in yer pocket across Canada
indeed....
walking ahead of
treading
toward
OsIp OsIp poetry holdin....
In his younger days M had used the word "book" in the sense of "phase." In 1919 he thought he would be the author of one book only, but then he realized that there was a division between Stone and the poems that came to be known under the general title Tristia. This title, incidentally, was given to the collection by Kuzmin, and the book itself is a miscellany of jumbled-up manuscripts taken to Berlin by the publisher without M's knowledge. " Hope Against Hope page 192.
--------------------- I came across this striking cover of Tristia. It would be interesting to know how the editions of M';s have fared since she wrote her memoir, and how this edition came to be. Did the editors know that the poems in it were not organized by the poet, and if they did, how did they consider this?
__________________________________ this photo of Mandelstam in a happier moment ~
One must not forget the great Joy in the Poet,
and the self - humour of laughter
in spite of all ~
(them versers that
themselves to o
seriouslee become
bad poets)
"TRISTIA", d'Ossip Mandelstam. Livre de poésies publié aux éditions "Pétropolis" (Berlin- St Pétersbourg) en 1922, à 3 000 exemplaires dont 100 numérotés. Illustration de la couverture de Mstislav Doboujinsky.
'The past and the present do not denote two successive moments, but two elements that coexist' ... Professor Deleuze on Bergson
so each past of the poem
runs ahead to its future
in the receiving loving hands of its reader
lips
So all poem co-existing in the folding and un
rolling
"Only in Russia is poetry respected – it gets people killed. Is there anywhere else where poetry is so common a motive for murder? "- M says this to Nadia in Hope against Hope.... that is, Mandelestam says this to his wife.
(ah, but they say the time 's changed Osip but it's not its everywhere this killing)
indeed ~ Russians receive poetry vividly ~ in bushels of heaps it ~ and take it to heart. we once did . memorizing , thank god, huge swathes of verse ~
George Stein er in a talk I heard once speaks of Russian audiences reciting along with a poet as he recited to the em one of Shakespeare's sonnets...
Now that must have been
something
imagine
what beauty
and audience
of 4000 or more
reciting together
that
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
but we amnesiacs recall in fragments of bitter pieced our memory and memorized snippings...
us aphasiacs an failures
us readers of delirium....
------------------------ Steiner the impassioned polyglot
and Wordsworth too was able to cite from memory great chunks of poetry ....
but us half wits we can barely read our reaching hands spacing for text.....
now having said all that terribly sad truth
one has to imagine another side to the memorization view and the sometimes specious
perspective which claims poetry was once based on oral traditions... true as it is.....
One cannot imagine Finnegans Wake being memorized and handed down
even by the author....
It had to be written
and its written-ness is
its memorization
the writing is the memorization
and the fact of
ecriture is the act of heart and variety which makes its
memory as text the tongue licking backward as its speaking self composes
the written word ~
hands which love
hands which hold
and those that clutch
and
most living those hands
which write...
(this is a memory of a verse by Tzara written
in the 50's).
_______________________________________
I've also come across this blog
">devoted to reading Russian books href="http://lizoksbooks.blogspot.com/">Lizok's Bookshelf
and this connecting bridge to the Anna Akhamtova Museum
>
------------------------ et voila Tristia
Recited in the original Russian, followed by a reading of Joseph Brodsky's English translation
The act of writing is memorization. The text as written is already the memorized tradition. The reading writing tradition and the
oral forgottentradition
_______________________
__>________________________________ poets, including myself self self self , should not be
afraid to make mistakes,
(the mistake is where it is at the thing ~ the portals of aleatory genius )
in deed
we ought to make big ones
the bigger the better
the larger the wider
as the tongue's
far and wide
_______________________
beside which we make them anyhows. as tense to verb is clutter to vein, and vain is not vase to its hoped for rip. the mouth roars, the god calls
yes
the god
calls ~
2009/02/21
mandelstam monuement in Voronezh.
A Monument to this Spinoza of Poets. and reader of the long immanence of skies earth, train stations, and doors breat hing. rooms opening out ~
"If one is thus to regard the sense as the content, then one must consider everything else in the word as a simple mechanical appendage that only impedes the swift transmission of the thought. "The word as such" was slow aborning. Gradually, one after the other, all the elements of the word were drawn into the concept of form; up to now only the conscious sense, the Logos, has been erroneously and arbitrarily regarded as the content.
Mandelshtam Utro Akmeizma p1
We do not wish to divert ourselves with a stroll in the "forest of symbols," because we have a more virgin, a denser forest--divine physiology, the boundless complexity of our dark organism."
Utro Akmeizma p4
the monument ~ which I've not seen. So I've no idea of its proportions ~ but it looks like he's pretty tough and cocky in the right kind of way, ~
the Kremlin mountaineer 1933 _ is the poem which began the chain of events leading to his exile and eventual execution ~ long chain of word leading to dying ~
We live, deaf to the land beneath us,
Ten steps away no one hears our speeches,
All we hear is the Kremlin mountaineer,
The murderer and peasant-slayer.
His fingers are fat as grubs
And the words, final as lead weights, fall from his lips,
His cockroach whiskers leer
And his boot tops gleam.
Around him a rabble of thin-necked leaders -
fawning half-men for him to play with.
The whinny, purr or whine
As he prates and points a finger,
One by one forging his laws, to be flung
Like horseshoes at the head, to the eye or the groin.
And every killing is a treat
For the broad-chested Ossete.
____________________________________________
sound values don't transfer ~
the Ear's sung distinctly
in each vocable
divergently
tongue to tongue
__________________________________________________
Monument to the great Russian “Silver Age” poet Osip Mandelstam was unveiled on 2 September in Voronezh.
The poet was exiled to Voronezh in 1934 for his poem that sounded like a slap in the face of the Stalinist regime: “We live not feeling the country under us…”
In spring 1937 Mandelstam left Voronezh, it turned out, that forever. Soon he was arrested again and perished under Vladivostok.
The monument that evoked some disputes, according to its author’s message has embodied the poet’s sophisticated personality, his quests and tragic turns of fate.
The sculpture has been set up in the city park “Orlyonok”, at the crossroads of Friedrich Engels Street and Tchaikovsky Street. Next to it, in House 13, Engels Street, Osip Mandelstam lived for some time during his Voronezh exile.
via : communa.ru
and
http://www.russia-ic.com/
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This fragment is his final letter
"My darling Nadia - are you alive, my dear?Wikisource
I was given five years for counter-revolutionary activity by the Special Tribunal. The transport left Butyrki on September 9, and we got here October 12. My health is very bad, I'm extremely exhausted and thin, almost unrecognizable, but I don't know whether there's any sense in sending clothes, food and money. You can try, all the same, I'm very cold without proper clothes.
I am in Vladivostok. This is a transit point. I've not been picked for Kolyma and may have to spend the winter here."The final arrest in 1938 was the end.... the end... sent to a . He was sent to a labor camp in Siberia.... The Soviet government reported
that Osip Mandelstam died at Vtoraya Rechka, on 27th December, 1938. .... body ... placed in an unmarked mass gravesomewhere in the snow ... in the snow... snow.... snow unmarked.. this grave... grave like so many others thousands unmarked... graves..... The letter quoted above was smuggled out of the camp shortly before he died
and yet his words live ~
----------------------------------------
The Stalin EpigramTranslated by W. S. Merwin
Our lives no longer feel ground under them.
At ten paces you can’t hear our words.
But whenever there’s a snatch of talk
it turns to the Kremlin mountaineer,
the ten thick worms his fingers,
his words like measures of weight,
the huge laughing cockroaches on his top lip,
the glitter of his boot-rims.
Ringed with a scum of chicken-necked bosses
he toys with the tributes of half-men.
One whistles, another meows, a third snivels.
He pokes out his finger and he alone goes boom.
He forges decrees in a line like horseshoes,
One for the groin, one the forehead, temple, eye.
He rolls the executions on his tongue like berries.
He wishes he could hug them like big friends from home.
---------------------
As always the best way to 'see"a poem in another language
than one's own is to compare
the different versions, no?
yes, yes
jes/ jes да
--------------------because Russian strikes me as an inside language more than ours
more than others inside the rule of life
and its domains ~
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
via :and other spot ~---------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------
La guêpe et l'orchidée
La guêpe et l'orchidée
Essai sur Gilles Deleuze
Collection : L'Extrême Contemporain
Editeur : Belin
Directeur de collection : Michel Deguy
fragment lavie
la vie
fragmentee
tea
lavie
lavIe
LaViEE
La vie, c'est l'immense toile d'araignée de plis de chaque être connectés aux plis de tous les autres, partout où les rencontres permettent d'animer ces plis et de leur donner un sens nouveau. La vie, c'est le coup de foudre quotidien des rencontres avec une couleur, des yeux,
une main, une phrase.
unephrase main
main phrase
une main
une phrase
Des artistes (ici des romanciers : Proust, Butler, Döblin) et des métaphores devenues métamorphoses (ici les noces asymétriques de la guêpe et de l'orchidée) se mettent à dévoiler l'à côté central de l'œuvre.
Arnaud Villani, né en 1944, philosophe, enseigne en Première Supérieure au Lycée Masséna de Nice. Outre de nombreux articles de philosophie en revues, il publie des poèmes et des traductions de poésie (Nu(e), Hiems, Po&sie).
2009/02/19
from russia with love; In this Building they decide who lives and who dies....
A dispute between what is given... and th e sense of what can be made of it....
dissensus a nOther sense of reality... I think it's interesting to compare what Ranciere is speaking about and his demonstration of it and the end of his talk with what the russian dissenters are doing over in Petersburg, Moscow and other places in the big bear ~ Russia
------------------ from What is to be Done ~ a News paper of Engaged Creativity
Chto delat/What is to be done? was founded in early 2003 in Petersburg by a workgroup of artists, critics, philosophers, and writers from Petersburg, Moscow, and Nizhny Novgorod (see full list of participants on the web site) with the goal of merging political theory, art, and activism.
Since then, Chto delat has been publishing an English-Russian newspaper on issues central to engaged culture, with a special focus on the relationship between a repoliticization of Russian intellectual culture and its broader international context. These newspapers are usually produced in the context of collective initiatives such as art projects or conferences.
_________________________________A NewTRust in the power of the Image
_________________________________________focus on th e small in the what cannot b e seen
produces a shift
curisoity
a politics
of the resitance of the gaze
part of the landscape itself.....
___________________
this article and you tube vide are from from the Febuary 6th posting concerning the lawyer Stanislav Markov ~
______________________________________________
a shift of the worn out affect of indignation
___________________________________________________
the landscape of the visible...
--------------------------------------------------------------
a ttention
politics of the percept and affect
distance
resistance of the
visible
--------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------- it's this tininess which interests me
indig
nation
What is to be Done ~
O
On s'assoira, toi et moi, un moment dans la cuisine, la bonne odeur du kérosène,
You and I will sit for a while in the kitchen, the good smell of kerosene, sharp knife, big round loaf - Pump up the stove all the way. And have some string handy for the basket, before daylight, to take to the station, where no one can come after us.
ss
2009/02/17
more on mandelstam
-------
(her name is Russian signifies hope )
'this country' is a strange russia of denial and disarming of
patriation and other falsehoods
i cant begin to speak of 'this' country.
It was published in two volumes in 1970/ One of the high periods of the Cold War...
war is the way of the world. it does not mean it has to remain that way.
history of 20 th century and the 21 st thus far is history of prisoners,prisons, and escapes, liberations, freedom, getting out , doors swinging open,, finding a
space for
oneself and others ,,
democracy now has a story about american judges sentencing kids
to private jails
------------
freeing the prisoner's
hard work
death row
to life
flow
--
prisoner s of time money
body
;
always being watched.
--- but politics is the negotiation of the watcher and watched. a flow of goods and people rounding up themselves for spaces of better freedom. people speak of spirituality as if it was not political but spiritual is too political. the earth is politcal. the stars
breathing
i work daily on this new book ive begun ./ slow / drudgery.
everyone has their prison, the
beating
beating its prisoner alive &
dead
death's a prison they say
you
escape so they
say life's a prison
too
well
what do i know
about bones
and prison
except this
_______
rabble ca has a series of
yes, what, yes,
more to
---
bail outs for rich
banks
world wide corporations
so death goes
on hanging its living ones
--
----------------------
A poem by the Russian that has been translated into
French
Pour la résine de commune endurance, pour le probe goudron du travail.
L’eau dans les puits de Novgorod sera noire et liquoreuse
Pour qu’à Noël s’y reflète l’étoile aux sept nageoires.
En retour, père mien, mon ami, mon aide de rudesse,
Je -frère méconnu, mis hors la loi du cercle de son peuple-
Promets de construire des puits coiffés d’une charpente si robuste
Que les Tatars puissent y descendre les princes dans un bac.2009/02/14
underneath your vase
Morning
below night's coat you choke air and the medley of birds,
beside desire the warm day' s rock
coarse hands of light
are up and willing
what night is it?
is it night? this quivering reed
stretches nerves
yellow corn fields
Hold this piece of silver traitor
Climb the ladder to the bed you never entered
is that crystal on your thigh
tear the lace off my teeth'd gnaw
everyone knows winter's dead
in your blessed feet
your belles-lettres hips
below night's coal
Hills thaw you're holding my sex
promised flower of its erect hour
fired column sprawl vines around your back
your back's naked and coming
On abyss the cliff
you hang a mouth abutting
jutting open spring board to the finish....
rain comes like thawed wheats
sweaters waisting your arms
take off your underthings
your mouth is coming
underneath your vase
your breasts
your tits holding out for my suck
this is saturday night in the western metropolis and
you're imagining rain day night canoes passable gulches
and asses you've worn
here the exclamation hardly matters as you're breathless on the other shore
panting
panting
paris villages 19 2 0
from an interesting
an
peculiar site
calle d strange
maps
__ so VOila, Paris,
Paree
at the time of Appollinaire and Tzara,
et Picasso and Joyce
et Celine
et d es autres
personnes
et meme
moi
et toi
dans les corps
non - connues
dans des
vies
avant vie
cette vie
si
present
et non
present
and tant d'autres des gens ordinaire
comme peut-être vos parents et vos grandparents
et le mère et père des millions des gens inconnues
dans ce monde connue et non-connue
via strange maps ~
brodsky speaking mandelstam da ? da... da? da...
et brodsky lisant un de ses poems ~
relaxed, informal , casual ~
ending misunderstandable ~ beguiled baffled ~
Nastasya Filipovna
murdered
Rogoszhin
penal servitude
Siberia
15 years
Myshkin
returned
to
Idiocy
in Switzerland
a strange
country
harbours madmen
madwomen
writers
revolutionaries
Ellen West
Nietzsche
MyShKin
real an
unreal
________________
one of the hardest books Ive read. but most thirst inducing.
2009/02/13
om waits- Chocolate Jesus
mais l'amour ne passera pas
ne passera pas
elle a pas passe
elle
_______________
2009/02/12
combien
plusieurs et infiniment ...
2009/02/11
Palais de Tokyo: La Chambre des Cauchemars
nuit, j'ai va voir toute ça. En attendant en regarde a la distance .
'A newly discovered collection of Aleister Crowley paintings exhibited at Palais de Tokyo in Paris, France. These paintings were created at the Abbey of Thelema in Cefalu, Italy. Exhibit commentary translated by "Marogan.'
2009/02/09
on yer
notyethmm
whenthen?
kenwhen
orthen?
orthenographiesare
more innaresin than otiobigographemes
that sorrow is death.
So I shall.
sourirrealiste
Clifford
February
______________
poet
collagist
bloggist
sourirrealiste
writer
performance artist
doctor
devenir personne?
personne devenir vous? moi vous? vous tu?
voodoo!
~ grande
sourire
sore foot!~
hiver
d'hiver
2009/02/07
back to beuys
of the small
and the little
and the big
and inbetween
so we are small frail creatures creating each in her own way. so love is and the dance of.
-_________________________
a certain winter day
l''l b become
spring
Un long dimanche de fiançailles
I've just become aware of this film tonight.
I 've just read about it a little. Ive' seen this excerpt. I like it. I want to see the whole movie now.
So I shall.
2009/02/06
les biches not les ... bitches .. i know where is an Hind...
an hind
a biche
not a
bitch
It's not easy to see things in the middle,
rather than looking down on them
from
above
or up
at them
from
below,
It's not easy to see things in the middle,
rather than looking down on them
from
above
or up
at them
from
below,
or from left to right or right to left:
or from left to right or right to left:
try it, you'll see that everything changes. --
les biches
de
Claude Chabrol ~
Director/Writer: Claude Chabrol
Writer: Paul Gegauff
Cinematographer: Jean Rabier
Music: Pierre Jansen
Cast: Stephane Audran, Jacqueline Sassard, Jean-Louis Trintignant, Nane Germon, Serge Bento, Dominique Zardi, Henri Attal, Claude Chabrol
Les Biches _____________________
Theme of the double _simulacra and other motifs of modern love , jealousy, the question of three and one ; of one and two ~ so the poetry of hate. and love. reminiscent of proust and others...
but is it us who manufactures our own misery? how does misery come about in the world of love?
the economics of desire is ever deceptive ~ we hate what we love and love what we hate ~
______________
2009/02/05
kaddish
such ...
intense ~
for a
death
there is
life ~
Par Germain Trouvé
2006V8829E0034
rediffusion de 29.05.06
#
11:52
Henryk Mikolaj Gorecki
3ème Symphonie op.36 " Symphonie des chants plaintifs ", pour soprano et orchestre : " Lento, sostenuto tranquillo ma cantabile " / " Lento e largo, tranquillissimo - cantabilissimo - dolcissimo - legatissimo " / " Lento, cantabile - semplice "
Zofia Kilanowicz, soprano
Orchestre Philharmonique de Cracovie
Jacek Kasprzyk, direction
réf ...
#
et à...
12:49
Serge Kaufmann
Suite Yiddish, extrait : " Prière " pour violoncelle et piano
Philippe Pennanguer, Violoncelle
Marie-Josèphe Truys, Piano
réf : PAV
_____________
in spite of and
and the child rose... scattering ... flowrs
----------------
for sum1 with yr edukatshun. you make alotta spellin'misstakes. mister D.
The Dead Christ Manet ~ how different is the Vision of Manet. Audition and Vision.
'Talitha cumiTalitha cumi '
'and the child was raised _________ sitting up in her coffin '
_______________________________________________________
so let us listen to Miss Luba
and not
generalize or reterritorialize about great nations and their peoples and habits
instead