Beck and Robz

Quote

2003

2003

For an unhinging series of capillary tightening, depleting, lifeless still motion cacophonous flip book flag pole life. Failing defilading these aborting moments. Excessive dissemination, recitation, revision. Death and debasement. Blankness, paper giant scenes, spines. The flashing and fading tail lights, permeates. ‘I’m tough..’

For an unhinging series of capillary tightening, depleting, lifeless still motion cacophonous flip book flag pole life. Failing defilading these aborting moments. Excessive dissemination, recitation, revision. Death and debasement. Blankness, paper giant scenes, spines. The flashing and fading tail lights, permeates. ‘I’m tough..’

2003 Ipswich Festival

The ReturnAn …

Quote

The Return

An Idea ran about the world
screaming with the pain of the mind
until it met a child
who stopped it with a word.

The Idea leaned over those newborn eyes
and dreamed of the nature of things:
the nature of memory and the nature of love;
and forgave itself and all men.

Quieted in a sea of sleeping
the Idea began its long return –
renewed by the child’s sea-colored eyes
remembered the flesh, smiled and said:

I see birds, spring and the birthplace
unknown by the stable stone.
I know light and I know motion
and I remember I am not alone.

The Idea voyaged nearer my breathing, saying
Come balance come
into the love of these faces and forces
find us our equilibrium.

And the child stirred, asking his questions.
The Idea grew more fleshly and spoke:
Beaten down I was
Down I knew very long
Newborn I begin.

And the child went on asking his questions.

The Idea journeying into my body
returned, and I knew the nature of One,
and could forget One, and turn to the child,
and whole could turn to the world again.

Until the pain turns into answers
and all the masters become askers
And all the victims again doers
And all the sources break in light.

The child goes alive, asking his questions.
Muriel Rukeyser

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Every now and again take a good look at something not made with hands – a mountain, a star, the turn of a stream. There will come to you wisdom and patience and solace and, above all, the assurance that you are not alone in the world.

Sidney Lovett (via larmoyante)

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That was the thing about words, they were clear and specific-chair, eye, stone- but when you talked about feelings, words were too stiff, they were this and not that, they couldn’t include all the meanings. In defining, they always left something out.

Janet Fitch, White Oleander (via larmoyante)

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We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.

Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (via larmoyante)