StumbleUpon | Denise-R's blog posts

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Fri, 03 Oct 2008 16:10:21 -0700

Sartre, photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson

"Words are loaded pistols."

Sartre's letter of refusal of the Nobel prize

Sartre's letter of refusal of the Nobel prize://denise-r.smugmug.com/photos/126911389-L.gif" width="400" height="4" />

http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/5037985/

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 16:05:08 -0700

WHAT do we see here in the sand dunes of the white moon alone with our thoughts, Bill,

Alone with our dreams, Bill, soft as the women tying scarves around their heads dancing,

Alone with a picture and a picture coming one after the other of all the dead,

The dead more than all these grains of sand one by one piled here in the moon,

Piled against the sky-line taking shapes like the hand of the wind wanted,

What do we see here, Bill, outside of what the wise men beat their heads on,

Outside of what the poets cry for and the soldiers drive on headlong and leave their skulls in the sun

for--what, Bill?

Carl Sandburg
Dune, Chicago Poems

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http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/23267279/

Mon, 28 Jul 2008 08:30:46 -0700

Joyce Tenneson

what do you think is the best,
a game you think you can finish, but never do,
or a game that seems impossible to win, but isn't?

Avalon.
Director: Mamoru Oshii

divine proportion

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http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/10028083/

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 14:16:57 -0700

here. again. because i love ...
intermittently sticky post

Richard Ladig
A Box of Childish Dreams
Oil on Canvas
Gallery Link courtesy of Hysteria

He said, "What do you seek?"
I said, "To have you as my constant friend."
He said, "What do you want from me?"
I said, "Your abundant grace."

umi

...

http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/23362710/

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 06:55:57 -0700

photo: She-Figured Dance, Her Last Breath, 1997

the last bird's wing

what isn't written is expelled
celluloidal silent neglect
silent science sound definition
sounds made of egret wings
mistaken for background noise
on the recorded silence and breathing.
what isn't silence is lies
unless the sound is made by water or cellos
what isn't written is expelled with our last breath
silently without definition or expectation
a shadow of a shadow

~ d

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http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/23058476/

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 07:31:33 -0700

image: In the Twilight, by Yo Coquelin

from your friend, Maria Rainer ... circuitously
inspired by my friend, a miracle called Terkltoyser

tenderly your eyes let it go ...
into the brushwood's glimmering buds
hiding-place, in which I spend
and sing.
on a favorite book.
and onto the world.
like foresight, that many look on you.
he who loved me most.
to dance in the city streets: dance ! ...
who doesn't know what even yesterday I was.
dark blue ...
I cannot see.
when I shall call it to the deep delights.
in the dark book of the beginning.
Do I need to ask?
no window will rattle on the housefronts,
as if to Easter, but with no wreath.
and her blood went rushing deep beneath her.
and more beautiful sails glide through the circles,
To where? To where?
traveled over the white keys
and our horses sweep down like rain.
and sang of gardens outside at the city's edge.
and many windows opened up and shone.
like a twilight hour, is everywhere.

Petits �mois, also by Yo Coquelin

gods forgive me!
~ the riddler

http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/22974319/

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 15:10:01 -0700

photos reposted from 17 November, 2007

~ a meditation ~
because my back hurts
which is like a sadness
until it passes
~

flower

Mark Arbeit

The thief
Left it behind -
The moon at the window.

Ryokan, 1758-1831

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spine

fern

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water

Everything on the earth bristled, the bramble
pricked and the green thread
nibbled away, the petal fell, falling
until the only flower was the falling itself.
Water is another matter,
has no direction but its own bright grace,
runs through all imaginable colors,
takes limpid lessons
from stone,
and in those functionings plays out
the unrealized ambitions of the foam.

Pablo Neruda

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River
(sung by Allison Crowe)

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http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/20474981/

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 08:50:53 -0700

image: digital blasphemy

rings around the moon are sometimes yes
for Jim Cellini

the pavement is dry
the connection is clear
under the words ...
it's christmas
and we're alone together.

heavy with innocence
irony lost to evening
sorrow softened
he says i know
it's so simple

we sit on these strings
we are homeless except for this
all in and insistence
all distance and memory
and so the day flows

our cool is infiltrated
pale halving of the clean machine
eiderdown rules rings
around the jungle moon
flying with insane faith
when the horror came.

-d

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http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/19505692/

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 08:57:13 -0700

photographer unknown. A Corner in the Bethlehem Steel Works. copyright held by Underwood and Underwood, N.Y.

this is (industrial) living

i know why simple people believe in heaven
never free, i am a simple person.
was it wrong to leave our home
our depression years inspired
by your bethlehem steel lakefront
grey dow chemical coughings?
living on an abandoned dump is not so bad
the fathers all had coughs
the mothers all died young
the children all hit on the palms in school
this town, my home, does not breed subtlety
i am a native
i thought us rich because we had clean windows
let's be frank.
a new car in the neighborhood
amazed but also terrified
we'd act happy for the owner,
secretly worried how they'd pay
the grocery bill at Park Edge market
strings of yellow lights, hand-painted
signs announcing clam stands were carnivals
but the clams never stood
church statues glistened wetly with
embedded diamonds, aroused with hope
Mrs. Noel wore seamed stockings, perfectly straight,
high heels and a fur stole to church
she caused dreams among the girls
erections among the boys and
despair among the mothers
she never looked at us
i stared at her in niagara falls wonder
and wondered who was more real
Mrs. Noel or the Virgin Mary
i wonder how she happened to be there.
the one unwritten law -
we must Never embarrass one another
even jesus had nails in his feet.
i dreamed of the ocean floor
in national geographic maps
pinned beside the bed ... and space.
and spring lilacs, which almost never came.
and heaven.
i still do.

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http://Denise-R.stumbleupon.com/review/19306544/

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 18:24:09 -0700

photo: She-Figured Dance, Her Last Breath, 1997