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Burning (Andante Non Troppo)
- Jack Gilbert
We are all burning in time, but each is consumed
at his own speed. Each is the product
of his spirit's refraction, of the inflection
of that mind. It is the pace of our living
that makes the world available. Regardless of
the body's lion-wrath or forest waiting, despite
the mind's splendid appetite or the sad power
in our soul's separation from God and women,
it is always our gait of being that decides
how much is seen, what the mystery of us knows,
and what the heart will smell of the landscape
as the Mexican train continues at a dog-trot each
day going north. The grand Italian churches are
covered with detail which is visible at the pace
people walk by. The great modern buildings are
blank because there is no time to see from the car.
A thousand years ago when they built the gardens
of Kyoto, the stones were set in the streams askew.
Whoever went quickly would fall in. When we slow,
the garden can choose what we notice. Can change
our heart. On the wall of a toilet in Rock Springs
years ago there was a dispenser that sold tubes of
cream to numb a man's genitals. Called Linger.
I especially loved the lines 'It is the pace of our living / that makes the world available.' and 'the stones were set in the streams askew / Whoever went quickly would fall in. When we slow, / the garden can choose what we notice. Can change / our heart.' The poem ends very strongly (typical of any Gilbert piece), tying a metaphysical idea to the real-world: a pleasure-enhancing sex-cream that works how?-- by letting you 'linger' ;-) Classic!
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Date: 2008-11-24 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 12:30 am (UTC)./w
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Date: 2008-11-25 12:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 05:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 10:49 pm (UTC)./w
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Date: 2008-11-25 10:59 pm (UTC)Well, I've got a few quotes I'm considering at the moment. I really want a collarbone piece and yet, I've also got a non-textual idea for that area...so it's a bit of a toss up at this point. Quotes ahead of this Gilbert one are two Goethe lines:
...you are the butterfly, and you are gone...
...nothing is worth more than this day...
A textual band perhaps? Still musing....
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Date: 2008-11-29 03:19 pm (UTC)Leonard Cohen talking to an obviously smitten interviewer.
./w
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Date: 2008-12-05 12:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 12:32 am (UTC)