These fragments I have shored against my ruins. -T.S. Eliot

These fragments I have shored against my ruins.  -T.S. Eliot
Showing posts with label words. Show all posts
Showing posts with label words. Show all posts

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Words Hazard All

              I’ve never thought of counting words. I’d rather not

-Iris Murdoch

      Title: Ronald Johnson

Sunday, June 1, 2014

A Word

I used to think when I turned thirty I would become a writer.
Thirty passed.
I wrote here then, daily. Poems. Essays. Words like leaves on a page curling, turning over in the wind.
I wrote before that, too. Decades before: shelves, walls, boxes of words.
I didn't know what blogger meant. Monetize, followers, trolls.
And then erasure happened.
It swept.
My knees became my feet, my eyes like the closing of so many leaves, unseen.

I have dwelt in caves dripping.
Time has passed. The sun is higher.
I write.
I want you to know I am still writing.
Yes, my answer will always be yes,

I am writing.

Image: John Bridges, Embrace
Text: T.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Blind as we are to Seeing

     All words are masks and the lovelier they are, the more they are meant to conceal.
  -Steven Millhauser

Image: Claudia Drake, Moira, 2007
Title: Miguel Hernández

Saturday, May 4, 2013

The word within a word, unable to speak a word

Perhaps the music Schopenhauer had in mind is music eliminated to non-music. A whisper would suffice. Perhaps a sigh of fatigue or resignation, perhaps a moan of despair or sorrow. Perhaps a sound just articulate enough that it could be heard to dissipate.

-Eugene Thacker, Cosmic Pessimism 

Image: Arnold Newman, Violin shop : patterns on table, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1941
Title: T.S. Eliot from the poem, “Gerontion”

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Naked and dressed in stars

     I was a great many far cries from myself. 
     -Gary Lutz
     Image: Lisette Model, First Reflection, New York
     Title:  Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions: Volume I, trans. by Rosmarie Waldrop 

Saturday, March 16, 2013

A silence approaching bees of the invisible

Know this as well: We no longer have our words. They have withdrawn. In truth, they live, they wander among us. The face with the lost mouth.

-Henri Michaux

Image: Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorsky

Title: Carolyn Forché

Saturday, February 16, 2013

This forest of letters

   You speak, and suddenly you are a thousand words standing up.
-Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions: Volume I [The Book of Yukel, Return to the Book], translated by Rosmarie Waldrop

Image: Found
Title: Susan Howe, “Personal Narrative” (Souls of the Labadie Tract, 2007)

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

A sharp-edged throne, a great arsenic lobster

Language is not transparent.

Image: Mel Bochner
Title: García Lorca, from Theory and Play of the Duende (obviously)

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Come, young rain of tears

All my life I’ve looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.
-Ernest Hemingway

Image: Alexis ArnoldCrystalized books
Title:  Rolf Jacobsen

Monday, September 3, 2012

What Geomancy

"For words are clumsy mountaineers and clumsy miners. Not for them to bring down treasures from the mountains’ peaks, or up from the mountains’ bowels."
-Franz Kafka, in a letter written to Selma Kohn 
[Source: Letters to Friends, Family, and Editors, trans. by Richard and Clara Winston]

[Image: Thomas Moglu]

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Scaffolding for Meaning

Strings of language extend in every direction to bind the world into a rushing, ribald whole.

-Donald Barthelme

Image: Anders Beer Wilse, Norway, Hardangerjöklen, ca 1908.
Title: Nod to Diego Marani (phrase from New Finnish Grammar)

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Abeille, Arbre, Bois, Jardin

"And though recently all his living with books had put his head rather in the clouds and made him less and less interested in the world around him, now on the other hand reading the Encyclopedia, and beautiful words like Abeille, Arbre, Bois, Jardin, made him rediscover everything around him as if seeing it for the first time."

-Italo Calvino, The Baron in the Trees

Image: Isaac Eddy and James Wilson, history from 4000 BC - 1813 AD

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Writing: An Infinite Question

A “journey of profundity and solitude across measureless oceans.”
-Giorgio de Chirico

Image: Mark Tansey, Wheel of Language

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

It is commonly thought

It is commonly thought that everything that is can be put into words.
-Agnes Martin

Image: matchbook

Monday, March 26, 2012

Valéry on Dictionaries and Ghosts

It’s most instructive when you can’t find the right word — it can prove that you’re truly envisaging a mental fact, and not a ghost from a dictionary.

— Paul Valéry, Cahiers/Notebooks (1900)


Friday, March 9, 2012

Fields Engraved in the Soul

"Each one of us, then, should speak of his roads, his crossroads, his roadside benches; each one of us should make a surveyor’s map of his lost fields and meadows. Thoreau said that he had a map of his fields engraved in his soul. And Jean Wahl once wrote …The frothing of the hedges / I keep deep inside me… Thus we cover the universe with drawings we have lived."
—Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space

Image:  Sam Winston

Monday, March 5, 2012

Rather Than Words

Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.

—Philip Larkin, “High Windows”

Image: Karl Friedrich Schinkel, The arrival of the Queen of the Night, production for Mozart’s Magic Flute, 1815