"There is only one measure. We are it.
And if to the harried universal
momentarily articulate nobody
anybody is who minds out loud
the nonstop imaginings that pour out
from silence, it doesn't matter who she is,
there appeared, in the eye's mind, solitude
willing to listen, would the other side
of vacancy turn out to be a lover?"
from a just discovered "mont blanc", robert kelly, 1994.
Thank you, Martin, for the Robert Kelly reference - eros, deja vu - and
hope.
maria
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc provides a venue for a dialogue relating to poetry and
poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]]On Behalf Of Martin J. Walker
Sent: Thursday, June 07, 2001 8:29 PM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Re: Levinas's door/ collaboration
The truest poetry is the most fain-ing
(cf. "she faynes to tell false tales" by the soi-disant Spenser, not the
detective ~ ?)
eros, the rose and the sore ~ ores (et déjà vu)
Den furchtbaren Trank, der der Qual mich vertraut, ich selbst, ich selbst,
ich hab' ihn gebraut!
I? I? I?
And ye?
( that old refrain/keeps Pounding in my ears)
or
I have stared at my face till there is no one there
(says Robert Kelly, my best bet for a mystical/mythological poet of our
time, Maria, and a Buddhist of sorts who refers more to Milarepa ~ or
Milaraspa ~ than Nagarjuna)
may sunyata be with you
Martin
