Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Friday, February 10, 2017

Sarah Bernhardt (1844-1923)... Ophelia, white marble 1880




Element 

They all swim in this
water

Fish
with big eyes
and sad mouths
swim around me
sad
without hands
holding hands

fish
in the water
in which I
drown


by Hilde Domin (1909 - 2006


Monday, October 26, 2015

Born today...Karin Boye,poet, October 26, 1900 Gothenburg, Sweden




THE WORLD'S HEART 

Say, where does the world's heart burn,
the world's heart of fire? 
It lives on coarse, heavy prehistoric coal:
black darkness, dense night, Chaos. 
Seek there! 
itself a struggle, glowing struggle -
For thus is the nature of fire: 
strong with its foe's struggle - 
has no other nature. 
And the victory? When the darkness has disappeared in flames?
and fire wants to conquer.
Is the victory death? 
Empty question and empty fear! 
The world's heart is fire,


 Lucifer




Lilith and Faun


Life and Death



Andrei Bely ... “Overview of Blok’s poetry”, 1923.





Andrei Bely ~ “Overview of Blok’s poetry”. Illustration to “Lectures about Blok”, 1923. Pencil, coloured pencil and watercolour on paper.





Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Ithell Colquhoun.... Autumnal Equinox, oil on canvas 1949







Muin (Sept 2nd-30th)
I am the month of Muin, month of the vine
Exhilaration is mine through the garland of fruit
Draped from the right shoulder across the swell
Of a belly like Primavera's; yet mine of early
Fall is the realm. On the head too are grapes
And the vine-leaves wreathing my autumn-coloured hair
My robe the bluish mist of a sky pregnant
With the first heavy dews.


How calm I am! Yet is there perhaps hidden
AN anger that gives authority to my poise?
I drank from the horn-cup and swam into a trance
So deep that only attraction amethystine
Recalls me, after a voyage through gates of horn


I come now to bless and renew dreams that are true
-Ithell Colquhoun




Sunday, February 1, 2015

Born today...Hugo von Hofmannsthal February 1, 1874, Landstraße, Vienna, Austria




Creatures of Flame

We are all creatures of flame. The butterfly: the intensity of a short life and fragility
become color. My death is like shadow, my life aquiver, a pulse in the light; I am so 
close to death it makes me proud, cruel and demonic.
Unmoved, I flutter from Helen's lips to Adonis' wound. 
I love my death, the flame, more than anything.




Creature of the Flood
Poem of the Mussels

We are alone in the dark. You up there have lips, rolled-up leaves, hands entwined with rosy blood and bluish veins, we are alone and cannot touch. We live our life fully, our fate is to resist the waves, that is what we become, and triumph and pain color us as the reflection of fall and of the sun colors the waves there near the surface.


Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Paul Holman... Tara Morgana, excerpt, 2014










from Tara Morgana by Paul Holman published by Scarlet Imprint and illustrated by the photography of Paul Lambert


Thursday, October 2, 2014

Born Today ... Rosaleen Miriam "Roie" Norton, October 2, 1917, Dunedin, New Zealand






image: The Hag , watercolour



...My home is the house of winds,
With great songs of Space ringing wild in my ears
Whose shouting heart leaps to their tune.
I mock at the shapes, plodding thickly, through lamplight:
stupid and cruel - or kind -
They are alien, Other, I'm touched with uneasiness...
Fear of these human.... and glide away sidelong:
Yet joying in fear, in my stealthy aloofness,
To know they are They and I'm I.
Towers of old cities are spiralling over me, Night-conjured,
rising from Time
And I hear, through the seething of luminous silence -
Secretive, vibrant, the sound of the Solitude -
Calling of others like me
Quietly they come, flitting softly as secrets; light-footed,
velvety, swift...
With eyes gleaming green, lambent flame of the Opal.
Kindred... we signal our quick recognition.
I am I ... but I know we are we
Panther of silence; god of Night; Lord of the wild inhuman
stars:
You are my own; teeming soul of solitude.
Here is no loneliness, secret Master -
You, Dark Spirit are with me. RN


Saturday, November 9, 2013

Louis Marcoussis...illustrations for Guillaume Apollinaire's Alcohol... 1913




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The Betrothal, etching, plate 29 from Alcools1934


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“And the solitary cord of sea lutes.”
Singer, plate eight from Alcools1934



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Moonlight, plate 30 from Alcools1934



Mellifluent moon on the lips of the maddened
The orchards and towns are greedy tonight
The stars appear like the image of bees
Of this luminous honey that offends the vines
For now all sweet in their fall from the sky
Each ray of moonlight’s a ray of honey
Now hid I conceive the sweetest adventure
I fear stings of fire from this Polar bee
that sets these deceptive rays in my hands
And takes its moon-honey to the rose of the winds



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Lul of Faltenin, plate eighteen from Alcools1934



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Rosemonde, plate 21 from Alcools1934


I named her Rosemonde
Lest I forget
Mouth flowered in Holland
Then slowly I took my way
Seeking the rose of the world


Monday, February 18, 2013

Susanne Iles & Audre Lorde... Aido Hwedo



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Aido Hwedo, West African Creation Dragon by Susanne Iles



Holy ghost woman
Stolen out of your name
Rainbow Serpent
whose faces have been forgotten
Mother loosen my tongue or adorn me
with a lighter burden
Aido Hwedo is coming.


from ''Call'' by Audre Lorde ~ February 18, 1934 – November 17, 1992





Monday, March 5, 2012

Justin Lee Brown ... drawings & poem



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"Maximum Velocity Realization"

A History of Abuse

Devotion punishes
the submissive tenderness of love
rattles the bars of the riot cell
the event horizon explodes
ecstasy seizes my ersatz heart
accelerates paroxysms of cobalt quivers

I strain
against taught strung bow
of limited compassion
I sink into delicious madness
plunge terrified
into the reverie of myogenic dream
my serial killer love springs its genetic latch
everything is offered
nothing will be forgiven
everything must die

my crisis of dimension survives
the vicissitudes of my shape shifting
into fire I throw you, true believer
twisting flesh, contortions of long shadows
whispering, the ancestry of restrained milieu 
familial bonds break tender bones
cruel thoughts race mercilessly
they cut across the frozen tundra
tearing away layer after layer of lies
exposing the new pink flesh of the righteous kill

I am parched by absences and acquisitions
my teeth are in my stomach instead of in my mouth
hope, consigned to oblivion
albeit practiced after every loss or forbidding
unlike like muscle memory
which never lies and never forgets


I forget things when I am skinned raw and bare naked
In moments of an utter disconnection from love  
still, my fear of you holds me close like exile
like a sickness in waiting
longing for fire while being burned by it
consumed by even the most objective elements of self
the crush of the malevolent familiar
spits me from the bloodbath of your mouth

curious confusions rebound, recoil
my darkness wrapped around me like my father’s lust
I recognized the tone of your intentions
filling my rusted water can with blood
what better way to control me
than to drown me with your hybrid vigor
survival, an odd balance of nature and nurture
that which doesn’t kill me makes me crawl.


Justin Lee Brown aka/Desiderata © Copyright all rights reserved 2011


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Detail from "The Arrogance of Observation"



Saturday, March 3, 2012

Dolorosa... new drawing... La Inquieta 2012



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a H.I.M. is still ah HER.
a hymn Her.
a song unto HER
a chant unto HER
a lotus flowHER at HER
sacRED lotus feet
is ALL Eye e'er was
and WILL
BE unto She who be
HER
and I AUM HER HYMN.




Monday, January 23, 2012

Dolorosa ... a drawing for Harry Crosby 2012




...if it were not for you...


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The Sun in unconcealed rage
Glares down across the magic of the world

The sun within us, that sways un incalculably.


At night

Swift to the Sun
Deep imaged in my soul
But during the long day black lands
To cross
And it is faith in the incalculable sun, inner and outer, which keeps us alive.
Sunmaid
Left by the tide
I bring you a conch-shell
That listening to the Sun you may
Revive
          And there is always the battle of the sun, against the corrosive acid vapour of vanity and poisonous conceit, which is the breath of the world.
Dark clouds
Are not so dark
As our embittered thoughts
Which carve strange silences within
The Sun

 HARRY CROSBY ~ CHARIOT OF THE SUN



Sunday, October 16, 2011

Robert Taylor... Pen & Ink drawings and Poem...





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Rose ~ pen and ink


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Sri Yantra for the Kali Yuga ~ Pen and Ink
 
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Flower of  Freya ~ Pen and Ink


The Pointillist

In the gathering indigo of evening
at the twilight of the day,
as ghosts of blue smoke be rising
from chimeys red and grey,

an ink-besmeared drawing board,
testament to lonely nights
of labor-intense endeavors
where his patient work is wrought.

The small key rolls the tumblers
of an oiled, aged lock
that opens the door to stillness.
He feels for the light switch
to vanquish the dark.

Alchemist of the stipple-pen
in his black kitchen of art,
pursuing the endless journey
from ink to pen to dot.

His hair now streaked with silver,
Myopia dims his sight.
His years in dots are measured,
subtracting from his life...


more wonders here at the Red Salon



Monday, February 21, 2011

Rosaleen Norton... poem excerpt



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Light's Black Majesty : Midnight Sun: Lord of the wild and
living stars:
Soul of Magic and master of Death;
Panther of Night... enfold me.
Take me, dark Shining One; mingle my being with you,
Prowl in my spirit with deep purrring joy
Live in me, giver of terror and ecstasy
Touch me with tongues of black fire.
Fed with the fire at the Black Opal's centre,
I drink living silver in moon-quickened streets,
And star-voices ringing:
All Strangeness is with me
Towering, invisible, changing the Earth
Hatred and heavens are blending within me: They beat in the
pulse of the stars,
For a god in my heart cries with primitive splendour

....

And I hear, through the seething of luminous silence-
Secretive, vibrant, the sound of the Solitude-
Calling of others like me.
Quietly they come, flitting softly a secrets; light-footed,
velvety, swift...
With eyes gleaming green, lambent flame of the Opal.
Kindred... we signal our quick recognition.
I am I ... but I know we are we
Panther of silence; god of Night; Lord of the wild inhuman
stars:
You are my own; teeming soul of solitude.
Here is no lonelines, secret Master-
You, Dark Spirit are with me.

RN

accompanying piece for "Black Magick" below



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previous Rosaleen Norton post



Monday, February 14, 2011

Edward Estlin Cummings...poem & drawings...



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i like my body when it is with your

 
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh ... And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new


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previous posts EE CUMMINGS



Sunday, December 26, 2010

Victor Brown.... bookplate for Lily Yeats





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from Poems by WB Yeats, Cuala Press 1935


"There's nothing but our own red blood
Can make a right Rose Tree..."
wb yeats