Thursday, February 23, 2006

Written Out

I thought I’d written myself out
thought I’d written myself out of words
written myself out of melancholy
myself out of friends.
And I had.

Now here is a poem about nothing.

A poem about my father cutting
his intestine out, and my sister
stapling her stomach and sucking
her thighs and hips off.

Here is a poem about my mother’s voice
getting older over the phone,
and gifts forgetting their address
and getting lost in the mail.

A poem about another couple of friends
who are no longer, as of last Sunday;
and another who stopped being
a few months before.

Here is a poem about days slipping
under the couch, and nights
not even good for sleeping;
a poem about not writing poems.

A poem about a few years
not worth writing about
or even remembering;
here’s a poem about not writing.

Here is even a poem
about not even writing to you,
because it would take words to do so,
and I am all out of them.

I have
written
myself
out.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Playing favorites

Katy and I decided to write down our lists of 3 favorite poems & 3 favorite poets as part of our correspondence on Poetship. I, however, couldn't narrow down my list of poems to three, so below are my favorite four; to read more about them check out the post on Poetship. (And of course, I had to add "runner-ups" to my list of poets...) And please let us know what you think; who/what would be on your lists?

In order not to live alone (Pour ne pas vivre seul)

In order not to live alone
One lives with a dog,
One lives with roses,
Or with a cross.
In order not to live alone
One makes cinema,
One loves a souvenir,
A shadow, anything...
In order not to live alone
One lives for the spring
And when the spring dies
For the following spring.
In order not to live alone
I love you and I await you
To have the illusion
That I’m not living alone...

In order not to live alone
Girls love girls
And we see boys
Marrying boys.
In order not to live alone
Others have children,
Children who are alone
Like all the children.
In order not to live alone
We make cathedrals
Where all those who are alone
Pray to a star.
In order not to live alone
I love you and I await you
To have the illusion
That I’m not living alone...
In order not to live alone
One makes friends
And they get together
When the evenings of trouble arrive.
One lives for his money
His dreams, his palaces
But we never make
A coffin for two...
In order not to live alone
Me, I live with you
I am alone with you
You are alone with me.
In order not to live alone
We live as those who want
To give the illusion
That they’re not living alone.

(S. Balasko - D. Faure - Medail) - 1972

With time (Avec le temps)

With time,
With time goes, everything goes its way...
One forgets the face, and one forgets the voice.
The heart, when it doesn’t beat anymore,
Is not worth going to seek any further;
Just let it be, it’s all well...

With time,
With time goes, everything goes its way...
The other whom one adored, whom one sought under the rain,
The other whom one recognized with the turn of a glance,
Amongst the lines, amongst the words, and under the guise
Of a made-up oath on its way to make its night...
With time, everything fades.

With time,
With time goes, everything goes its way...
Even the dearest of memories have their own frowns.
In the gallery I search amongst the rays of death
For the Saturday evening when tenderness went all by itself...

With time,
With time goes, everything goes its way...
The other in whom one believed--for a cold, for nothing--
The other to whom one gave breath and jewels,
For whom one had sold their heart for some meager change,
In front of whom one trailed as dogs do...
With time, all goes well.

With time,
With time goes, everything goes its way...
One forgets the passions, and one forgets the voices
That told you softly the words of poor folk,
“Don’t be too late, but above all, don’t catch a cold.”

With time,
With time goes, everything goes its way...
One feels bleached like a drained horse,
And one feels frozen in a bed of chance,
And one feels all alone, perhaps, but it’s alright;
One feels flogged by the lost years...
But really,
With time, one loves no more.

-Leo Férré

Friday, February 17, 2006

Never mess with Germans on visa issues


I invite you to check out my brother's zine/graphic novella titled Never mess with Germans on visa issues that he wrote/drew during his 24 hour detention at the airport in Germany about his experience.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

the Word Verification contest

My dear friend Katy has launched a very interesting, witty and challenging contest: to use the "words (or randomly generated combinations of letters) from the word verification feature on Blogger" listed on her blog in a poem. So, check it out, and good luck if you dare!