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Me and Gary, brooding (September 2004)

READIN

Jeremy's journal

The gate is wide open, the madmen escape.

José Saramago


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Saturday, October 6th, 2012

🦋 Si puedes oír, escucha.

Un poema (o tal vez dos poemas, no estoy completamente seguro respecto a la división) por The Modesto Kid. (borredor)

azul es la lluvia que cae todos
los Avriles
sobre mis casas y pueblos y ciudades
entre mis líneas longitudinales
mojadas
penetra la lluvia
y fluye en arroyos
hacia charcos
(y no se congela, no es bastante frío)
en eses charcos podrían suceder asombras y milagros.
Veo ahora al fondo del corredor oscuro
puerta desconocida abriéndose. Afuera
gesticulan los árboles mojados; nos llaman a venir.

Si puedes oír, escucha.
Si puedes escuchar, cavila.
Cavilaré esas cosas de nuevo aprendidas,
ésas las que me has dicho
esas ideas antropógenes
que cazan y se acostan ociosos
sobre la cama que es mi cerebro
cogitaré largo
mejor que no me detenga
sin nunca entender
por qué me has dado
esas lecciones y
lecturas
ideas tan extrañas
ideas que a mi mirada la llaman
hacia direcciones no bien conocidas
y que entre si no se pueden en total
reconciliar,
hay inconsistencias adentro de esa tela de realidad:
por ejemplo: por qué no aceptarías
el deber lo que adeudes
a Machado y a Saramago
y a la historia entera del verso escrito
te comportes como si fuera la poesía
tu invención propia
(How can you say such a thing?)
(¿Por qué me dices tal cosa? y ¿cómo pudieras tal cosa decir?
Por favor no me falsificar. Amigo.)
Pues bien, reconocemos a la influencia y a la belleza de poetas pasados y los celebramos. Y ¡no de mala gana! Qué va, de ninguna manera. Amamos nuestros maestros y maestras y no tenemos ningún deseo, ellos a rechazar.
Lo todo estoy pensando mientras caigo
mientras caigo tan melifluemente, tan ligera, casi
involuntariamente --
Tuviera tiempo para hacer reverencias a los relicarios los que
estoy pasando en caer
si fuera un creyente. Soy viajante más bien,
recorro las playas del sol
y las mares de la luna.

posted afternoon of October 6th, 2012: 1 response
➳ More posts about Poetry

Sunday, September 30th, 2012

🦋 Old Notebook, New Notebook

mariasabina
la foto es de María Sabina
I did it! Over the past year or so, and for the first time in my life, I have filled a notebook, a yellow pad, with ideas towards poetry and fiction (much of which I have been revising and posting here) and am moving directly into a new notebook -- what has generally happened in the past is that I would start keeping a notebook and... lose interest over a couple of months' and/or pages' span...

This new notebook (which I bought at the same market in Oaxaca where I bought my favorite shoes ever, highly recommend it) is gorgeous! Hard covers and thick soft, recycled paper allow me to write on facing pages, unlike the yellow pad. So I am starting a project writing a bilingual text, Spanish on the left and English on the right like a parallel translation, but rather than the same text in both languages, it is two separate threads of a narration: The left is poetry by The Modesto Kid, the right is my character Peter's journals during his time translating that poetry. This is the idea I'm working towards anyway, I haven't quite managed yet to get the ideas to cohere properly. I will hopefully be posting drafts of some of this here in the weeks to come (if all goes according to plan...); a beginning is in comments to this post.

posted afternoon of September 30th, 2012: 4 responses
➳ More posts about Writing Projects

🦋 The crazy horse was screaming and

El caballo loco gritaba y
bailamos en la césped
entre miles
Neil moaning love
and his guitar

Let's listen to "Love and Only Love" -- the opening number last night.

posted morning of September 30th, 2012: Respond
➳ More posts about Music

Wednesday, September 26th, 2012

🦋 Formosan Blue Magpie

臺灣藍鵲: Urocissa cærulea
Dura menos un hombre que una vela
pero la tierra prefiere su lumbre
para seguir el paso de los astros.
Dura menos que un árbol,
que una piedra,
se anochece ante el viento más leve,
con un soplo se apaga.
Dura menos un pájaro,
que un pez fuera del agua,
casi no tiene tiempo de nacer,
da unas vueltas al sol y se borra
entre las sombras de las horas
hasta que sus huesos en el polvo
se mezclan con el viento,
y sin embargo, cuando parte
siempre deja la tierra más clara.
                         -- Eugenio Montejo

posted afternoon of September 26th, 2012: Respond
➳ More posts about Pretty Pictures

🦋 El pasaje del tiempo es lo que muere

(en que me hago sin objetivo fanfarroneas. Might as well, I don't see anyone else about to give me a rave rev)

Morir al final de un día cualquiera
Imposible escapar de la violencia.
Imposible pensar en otra cosa.

-- La universidad desconocida

I find this statement of Bolaño's strangely comforting, strangely reassuring. Me demasiado preocupo sobre el valor de mi obra, de mis intentos a poesía y a trabajo. El cuento que tengo en progreso, soy convencido de que ese cuento va a hacer una lectura convincente, fascinante, se hace en verdad ya casi completo. Y lo mismo los poemas que componía usando los de Bolaño como provocaciones...

El pasaje del tiempo es lo que muere
se mueren
los amigos de la infancia
envenenados por tiempo en los pueblos y las colinas de Nueva York

posted morning of September 26th, 2012: Respond
➳ More posts about The Unknown University

Sunday, September 23rd, 2012

🦋 Two set listings

Today I finished mixing Mountain Station's set for Lazlo's Blow Up Radio (where NJ rock lives) -- very happy with it. We'll make a podcast of this at some point, after it has aired on Lazlo's show. Tracks:

    Mountain Station *¡LIVE!* at Lazlo's Den:
    a Rollo and Crazy Grady production

  1. All Around You (0:00)
  2. NJ Transit (3:29)
  3. Up to Valhalla (6:37)
  4. East Tennessee Blues (trad.) (11:39)
  5. Take Me to the River (Al Greene) (13:35)
  6. Come Down Easy (Howard Eliott Payne) (16:36)
  7. Red Overalls (20:01)
23 ½ minutes! And it seems to hold together pretty well, it is a nice listen.

John came over today and we played a Dylan-heavy set of new-to-us songs...

  1. Gates of Eden (John singing)
  2. The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll (me singing, a couple of times in a couple of different keys...)
  3. Weary Day (a Delmore Bros. tune, with me singing -- we have played this before but not for a long time...)

posted afternoon of September 23rd, 2012: Respond
➳ More posts about Mountain Station

Thursday, September 20th, 2012

🦋 El texto habla: el texto se quiere traducir

Traductor: tradúzcame con mala intención, deje usted las líneas falsas sonarse a si mismos. Desforme usted mi intención, yo que soy figuras en la página, que no soy capaz de pretender. Destroce mi autor, rechacelo a mi autor. Anule mi autor. Traductor: sea usted mi cómplice. Juntos sembraremos la semilla del malentendimiento, que crezca el árbol horrible de poesía desfigurada. Traductor: le pido a usted, mutíleme. Mutíleme y déjeme usted fluir en ojos y orejas extranjeros.

posted evening of September 20th, 2012: 9 responses
➳ More posts about Projects

Sunday, September 16th, 2012

🦋 Two old projects: demolition and finishing

20052012

Out in the back yard
Playhouse lies in pieces and the bolts that once connected them
the once (and future?) construct
scattered sunlight on the lawn
scattered sunlit lifeless hollowed out
the paint like skin that's covered over
veins of douglas fir and cedar
veins of age-old wood and creeping
vitiating rot

Drill battery is charging and I look out my back window
at the stillness of the breezes blowing
pushing round the trees
pushing blowing round the green enclosure
manifold imposing over
arching, dark reality
the creeping, pungent real story
never write it down, I'll never
write it down because it's hidden
hidden dark unnameable
illicit hanging conversation
twittering between cicadas
translate text of endless grayed-out
sussurating stop.

Finished two old projects yesterday -- The playhouse I built for Sylvia in 2005 and which Bill helped me pull down a few weeks ago is now completely disassembled (and Scott has indicated he'd be interested in using the wood to build something for Sasha and Maya); and the Windsor chair I built on my 2002 trip to The Windsor Institute is finally painted, a handsome shade of green. Lee Valley milk paint is the best.

posted morning of September 16th, 2012: Respond
➳ More posts about Sylvia's playhouse

Saturday, September 15th, 2012

🦋 Mono Lisa

In the Democratic Republic of Congo, along the banks of the great gray-green greasy Lomami river, a new species of Old World monkey has been discovered; the Cercopithecus lomamiensis or Lesula. What a deliciously expressively cryptic face this individual has!

As Rob Helpy-Chalk phrases it over at FB, "He's offering some kind of comfort, but not the kind that depends on being delusional about the way the world is."

A-and omg, look at the youngsters holding hands:

posted evening of September 15th, 2012: 2 responses

🦋 Let's Listen to

Pretty Peggy-O:

Las Vegas, June 26th 1994.

posted afternoon of September 15th, 2012: 3 responses
➳ More posts about Cover Versions

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