The world has lost another voice. Nobel Prize winner, Irish poet Seamus Heany died a few days ago at age 74. It's a tremendous loss but there remains his lovely work. In remembrance, from his collection, "Open Ground, Selected Poems 1966-1996."
Postscript
And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you'll park and capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.
Sunday, September 01, 2013
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22 comments:
Sweet Springs toward Baywood
It was a day that was clear and hot and harshly bold stroke painted,
so it must had been sometime other than mid central coast summer.
The shade was a place where you could rest your eyes for only fleeting a moment,
Till greedy patches of view leapt through to gain at attention.
Air so still you could hear the absent insect wingbeats hanging in the silence.
Then we saw the pack of Pelicans punched out from a sea of impossible blue.
Miles away you could see every feather, except you couldn’t but look away.
They were whiter than angels, bright spectral invaders from a further dimension.
Rending rents through blue fabric, destroying all semblance of distance.
Tearing through the panoramic canvas, blazing boldly on through.
Arnie ran home to get the big movie camera, and I walked down Third to the Bay.
Close to the water, gritty wet sand, a muted, hazy, humid, more real reality held ground.
The white pelicans en mass moved around a near corner, close and unfound.
A very rewarding poetic Sunday! One lovely poem inspires a second one about our cool corner of the world. Thanks to all three of you, Ann, Seamus and Alon.
Noli timere.
Posting poems under other people's poems. Wow, Alon. Thanks for telling the world you're part of the Lonely Kike Club.
Anon 6:04 pm, I find your post offensive.
Not on my behalf toncers, it's just the same Pseudoanonymous I've been ignoring for years. Ron's and Ann's and your's mega-fan boy. Besides what goes around comes around, takes one to know one, it actually means "circle". The poor thing can't help itself.
That's sad. Antisemitism is disgusting. It's not funny, and playing the guessing game over who said it is an absolute waste of time.
Nice farewell to Seamus. I also find Anon 6:04 pm's comments extremely offensive. I also find Alon Perlman's poem offensive. I thought this was a tribute to Seamus, not to bad poetry from a drunk and a liar. The only common link between Seamus and the imposter is they lived on the same planet at the same time.
Fortunately for him, Seamus lived a long, full life without ever becoming aware of this fact.
Pathetic, Anons. Really pathetic. Talk about wasting air on the planet.
Look who's talking!
Ann, this seems to be the only thread remotely appropriate to ask this (although all the intense hate here makes it uncomfortable as well), but I was wondering if you've seen the Wood man's ode to Tennessee Williams: "Blue Jasmine." If so, I'd love to hear your take.
If not, run, don't walk, to the Palm.
Stella!!
or more to the point....Cate!!!!!
Billy: Am heading there tonight. Getting great reviews, especially Kate Blanchett. Stella! SteLLAH!
It was an amazing don't miss film Ann and Billy! Lou and I want to see it again!
It certainly was Lynette. IMHO, the best of Woody's late works. And I loved Midnight in Paris, but this was a cut well above. We too cannot wait to see it again.
I agree Billy, it was Woody's best late work. We loved MIPS too, but this just dug down so deep into the characters and they seemed so real, I almost felt part of the scene. I see Oscar nominations in the future!
Billy, saw "Jasmine." What a performance! Harrowing, cringe-making. I did think the film's ending felt too truncated. Streetcar at least had a moment of kindness and grace at the end, a kind of closure that was utterly missing here. Instead, just out on the street babbling, then cut to black, like Woody couldn't think of any way to close this story arc except just . . . stop. Uh . . . ??
I think Woody knew exactly what he was doing. Jasmine was beyond redemption. Babbling incoherently on a bench was all you needed to know of her fate. And Woody, the god of fear, loathing, and psychoanalysis, has always expressed, through his protagonists, a fear of this very thing happening. It's all over his stuff. Alvy Sanger and Isaac Davis could relate, no doubt. I'm happy Woody finally took one of his characters and realized that fear of being a crazy sort of bag lady right to the bitter, babbling end.
Besides, Ginger got the feel good.
I thought the cast was brilliant in its oddity. Andrew Dice Clay? Louie CK? C'mon.
And Cate Blanchett. 'Nuff said.
Billy Dunne has left a new comment on your post "Your Sunday Poem":
I think Woody knew exactly what he was doing. Jasmine was beyond redemption. Babbling incoherently on a bench was all you needed to know of her fate. And Woody, the god of fear, loathing, and psychoanalysis, has always expressed, through his protagonists, a fear of this very thing happening. It's all over his stuff. Alvy Sanger and Isaac Davis could relate, no doubt. I'm happy Woody finally took one of his characters and realized that fear of being a crazy sort of bag lady right to the bitter, babbling end.
Besides, Ginger got the feel good.
I thought the cast was brilliant in its oddity. Andrew Dice Clay? Louie CK? C'mon.
And Cate Blanchett. 'Nuff said."
Churadogs, sez: Well, that explains his "hard" ending --i.e. Woody's demons, sans William's "grace." Very interesting. Williams was constantly referencing and channeling his fragile beloved sister through his vulnerable, broken characters. (He was channeling his own brokeness as well) He loved his sister, felt compassion and pity for her that bled over into his characters. If you're correct, Woody is obviously much more judgmental and cruel to his characters (and to himself as well?) and so refuses to give his characters any quarter. All of which seems to fit with Woody's real dour, pessimistic character-- Fatalistic depressive man disguised as a humorist?
Amazing performances all round. And Dice Clay, well, who knew!
At the undergound theatre, "Kings of Summer," looks like another "Stand by Me," and at the Palm, "Ain't Them Bodies Saints" like another "Days of Heaven." (Before Malick fell to navel-gazing foodie-doodie) Well, we'll see.
Skip "Ain't Them Bodies Saints." What the point of this film was I still don't know. Great acting, art direction lovely, but where was the script? Drank enough Coke to keep awake anyway.....
Sewertoons AKA Lynette Tornatzky
To
Churadogs2@att.net
"Sewertoons AKA Lynette Tornatzky has left a new comment on your post "Your Sunday Poem":
Skip "Ain't Them Bodies Saints." What the point of this film was I still don't know. Great acting, art direction lovely, but where was the script? Drank enough Coke to keep awake anyway....."
Churadogs sez: I think this is like "Days of Heaven" a sort of lyrical "moving" . . . "picture" . . . (literally,) as in allowing the pictures/scenes to move the picture along rather than expostion. Done right, like "Days of Heaven",it's amazing. Done wrong -- snoozefest.
Am going to head down to see Kings of Summer. Another "Stand by Me," I gather.
We almost saw that instead last night and now I wish we had! Please let us know on Kings of Summer - hope it is as great as Stand by Me!
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