Find this painting "The Triumph of Death" by Pieter Brueghel
& then read this poem by Sylvia Plath
Two Views of a Cadaver
1
The day she visited the dissecting room
They had four men laid out, black as burnt turkey,
Already half unstrung. A vinegary fume
Of the death vats clung to them;
The white-smocked boys started working.
The head of this cadaver had caved in,
And she could scarcely make out anything
In that rubble of skull plates and old leather.
A sallow piece of string held it together.
In their jars the snail-nosed babies moon and glow.
He hands her the but-out heart like a cracked heirloom.
2
In Brueghel's panorama of smoke and slaughter
Two people only are blind to the carrion army:
He, afloat in the sea of her blue satin
Skirts, sings in the direction
Of her bare shoulder, while she bends,
Fingering a leaflet of music, over him,
Both of them deaf to the fiddle in the hands
Of the death's-head shadowing their song.
These Flemish lovers flourish; not for long.
Yet desolation, stalled in paint, spares the little country
Foolish, delicate, in the lower right-hand corner.
About Me
- Ms. Peacock in the Conservatory
- "A woman who writes her lover four letters a day is not a graphomaniac, she is simply a woman in love. But my friend who xeroxes his love letters so he can publish them someday - my friend is a graphomaniac. Graphomania is not a desire to write letters, diaries, or family chronicles to write for oneself or one's immediate family; it is a desire to write books to have a public of unknown readers. In this sense an amateur writer and Goethe share the same passion. What distinguishes Goethe from the amateur writer is the result of the passion, not the passion itself." -Milan Kundera
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
As Fragile as a Shell
This was a beautiful that was sent to me by my friend Emily. I hope it is read and enjoyed.
a translation of Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill by Derek Mahon called
"As Fragile as a Shell."
As fragile as a shell
cast up on a rocky shore,
I stand outside your door
in the afternoon. The bell
rings deep in the house,
echoing in the long, empty rooms.
The kitchen radio howls
rock music and, for a moment,
I feel a surge of hope; but then
I realize it is only there
to deter thieves
and a long wait lies before me
with no sound of your step.
I ring again, and the echo rises
among high ceilings, wooden stairs.
Peering through the letter-box
I recognize in the Georgian proportions
an intricate crystal-like structure
which bodies forth and hides a god.
A red rose stands in a vase
on the hall table; a sweater
hangs from the banister.
Unopened letters lie about
carelessly on the floor;
but nowhere is there a sign
of you to be seen.
On the drawing-room mantelpiece
a postcard from your lover
boasts that hers is the first
mail in your new house; it shows
a simple tourist view
of the tumulus at Newgrange.
There is a reference
--not lost on you, of course--
to the hieros gamos, the marriage
made in heaven. Outside
the warm conspiracy of your love
I stand, a nobody,
an orphan at the door.
An icy wind blows through the cold porches
of the farthest pavilions
in the depths of my soul;
the rivers of emotion are frozen solid,
my heart beats wildly
like strange and treacherous seas.
Damn my wooden head, my feather brain,
why am I waiting here
at your closed door?
When the bell peals inside
like the Angelus, do I really
expect the sky to open
and a dove
to descend upon me from above?
It is only in the soul
that the miracles take place
of love, forgiveness and grace;
it is only in dreams
that the sun and moon shine together
in a bright sky
while day dawns on them both.
a translation of Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill by Derek Mahon called
"As Fragile as a Shell."
As fragile as a shell
cast up on a rocky shore,
I stand outside your door
in the afternoon. The bell
rings deep in the house,
echoing in the long, empty rooms.
The kitchen radio howls
rock music and, for a moment,
I feel a surge of hope; but then
I realize it is only there
to deter thieves
and a long wait lies before me
with no sound of your step.
I ring again, and the echo rises
among high ceilings, wooden stairs.
Peering through the letter-box
I recognize in the Georgian proportions
an intricate crystal-like structure
which bodies forth and hides a god.
A red rose stands in a vase
on the hall table; a sweater
hangs from the banister.
Unopened letters lie about
carelessly on the floor;
but nowhere is there a sign
of you to be seen.
On the drawing-room mantelpiece
a postcard from your lover
boasts that hers is the first
mail in your new house; it shows
a simple tourist view
of the tumulus at Newgrange.
There is a reference
--not lost on you, of course--
to the hieros gamos, the marriage
made in heaven. Outside
the warm conspiracy of your love
I stand, a nobody,
an orphan at the door.
An icy wind blows through the cold porches
of the farthest pavilions
in the depths of my soul;
the rivers of emotion are frozen solid,
my heart beats wildly
like strange and treacherous seas.
Damn my wooden head, my feather brain,
why am I waiting here
at your closed door?
When the bell peals inside
like the Angelus, do I really
expect the sky to open
and a dove
to descend upon me from above?
It is only in the soul
that the miracles take place
of love, forgiveness and grace;
it is only in dreams
that the sun and moon shine together
in a bright sky
while day dawns on them both.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
The Emotional Stability Test
This post is published with gratitude and credit going to the females "MV", the voices behind of the brilliant site Fallopia. Thanks to copious libations and genuine insight, these geniuses were able to concoct this comprehensive piece of trickery entitled "The Emotional Stability Test". Upon a recently devastating, but informational break-up, I have come to apply this test as the foreground of any conversation with a person of the opposite sex. This test is an ace in determining if the man to your right, left, or behind is one that you should risk getting to know biblically. My gateway to further emotional conversation. Tackle the test if you dare.
The Emotional Stability Test
This is an assessment to determine whether an individual is capable of entering a romantic relationship. It is a gendered test, designed for males. It is strictly pass/fail. Send answers, along with your age and location/neighborhood and I will pass on your result.
All data will be anonymous and is for research purposes only.
TEST:
Have you ever been in a serious relationship?
Do you live alone?
Have you ever had to let someone know that you just weren’t that into them?
Who is the most questionable musician/band you listen to?
In a pick-up game, do you play shirts or skins?
Honestly, do you call, do you text, or do you forget?
What is a good date movie?
What do you think if she makes you cookies?
The Emotional Stability Test
This is an assessment to determine whether an individual is capable of entering a romantic relationship. It is a gendered test, designed for males. It is strictly pass/fail. Send answers, along with your age and location/neighborhood and I will pass on your result.
All data will be anonymous and is for research purposes only.
TEST:
Have you ever been in a serious relationship?
Do you live alone?
Have you ever had to let someone know that you just weren’t that into them?
Who is the most questionable musician/band you listen to?
In a pick-up game, do you play shirts or skins?
Honestly, do you call, do you text, or do you forget?
What is a good date movie?
What do you think if she makes you cookies?
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