Sometimes, when I slog off to the Dome yet again, and mind you, dear Merudanda, there are friends who have been doing that for 6 years plus! And in the Dome for 7 and a half hours per day! So in that sense I am a very minor slogger.
Anyway, when Fairfield seems deadingly rural, when I dream of running away to a place with better climate and at least one good bookstore and one museum of natural history, when the heat and humidity and tedium press down on this pitta, big city woman...sometimes that's exactly when grace occurs and I surrender even to that tedium, to that oppressive heat. It is a very sweet moment. Sometimes I wonder if surrender to all that isn't the last step before nirvana. Or at least the next step to loving unconditionally. This possibility is what keeps me slogging. Thank you for very non sloggish verses. So beautiful as always... Share, off to Dome, hoping to catch sight of Raunchy without chichi or tutu who are nonetheless probably great flyers ________________________________ From: merudanda <no_re...@yahoogroups.com> To: FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com Sent: Monday, August 27, 2012 6:41 AM Subject: [FairfieldLife] Love Song of J. Alfred PruXeno -- Re: mind boggling Midsummer is a suffocating time and I long, not for Cuba, but for a cottage, say, in Sweden on a lake surrounded by dark green forests in which all the trees talk Swedish. The repetition of one's experiences in a single spot year after year is deadly. But, then, so too is a life without the need of a job and without the plans that one is constantly making to amuse oneself. Even the scholar must have a subject for his life and however suffocating this time of year may be it has always been a time when I am happiest, as if the world had become composed at last. The palm at the end of the mind, >Beyond the last thought, rises >In the bronze decor, >A gold-feathered bird >Sings in the palm, without human meaning, >Without human feeling, a foreign song. >You know then that it is not the reason >That makes us happy or unhappy. >The bird sings. Its feathers shine. >The palm stands on the edge of space. >The wind moves slowly in the branches. >The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down. --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, "Robin Carlsen" <maskedzebra@...> wrote: > > … I have about decided to go to Key West on Thursday or Friday and cross to > Havana on the ferry and spend a day or two there sight-seeing. I shall have > to pay for that myself but I cannot feel that it would be a great sin to > indulge myself now that I am so near. Tomorrow several of the crowd are going > out in boats for the big fish but I do not intend to go along. One day is > enough. Besides I got so burned by the sun on Monday that another day of it > so soon might blister my skin. The beauty of this place is indescribable. > This morning the sea was glittering gold and intense deep blue. When it grew > cloudy later the sea turned to green and black. Later in the morning it > faired off, as they say, and by noon there was not a cloud in the sky. The > sky is perfectly clear and the moon full tonight. The palms are murmuring in > the incessant breeze and, as Judge Powell said, we are drowned in beauty. But > with all that, there are a most uncalled for number of mosquitoes. My knees and wrists are covered with bites. > from Letters of Wallace Stevens, selected and edited by Holly Stevens (New York: Knopf, 1966), 233. I think I should select from my poems as my favorite the Emperor of Ice Cream. This wears a deliberately commonplace costume, and yet seems to me to contain something of the essential gaudiness of poetry; that is the reason why I like it. from Letters of Wallace Stevens, selected and edited by Holly Stevens (New York: Knopf, 1966), 263. The Emperor Of Ice-Cream Call the roller of big cigars, The muscular one, and bid him whip In kitchen cups concupiscent curds. Let the wenches dawdle in such dress As they are used to wear, and let the boys Bring flowers in last month's newspapers. Let be be finale of seem. The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. Take from the dresser of deal. Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet On which she embroidered fantails once And spread it so as to cover her face. If her horny feet protrude, they come To show how cold she is, and dumb. Let the lamp affix its beam. The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. > --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, Duveyoung no_reply@ wrote: > > > > Really? Nablusoss1008, really? > > > > Are you really presenting yourself to this group suchly? > > > > This group? -- this group that has registered hundreds of thousands of > > posts and provably shows itself to be constantly vigilant about the values > > and truths of every statement? For free to any who would post? > > > > This group that regularly goes to absolutely extreme nuancing, and has > > minds so delicate but iron-stubborn? > > > > This group whose mindset attempts to wrest the real from the actual by > > tying every tool and even one arm behind its back and resigns "each and > > all" to "doing this that we do here" with mere words? > > > > This group? Really? This is the group from which you've selected, Xeno, > > who is perhaps the sanest and most eloquent and generously-available-to-all > > person, and it is he that you choose to dump on as if he were "Edg on his > > nut buggy?" > > > > Are you sure you want to do this-that-you've-just-now-done, and have THIS > > be here for ever and ever and ever to be chewed upon by all the vastness of > > the consciousness of all the generations to come? > > > > Great God Almighty I hope you don't. > > > > I hope you're the prime jokester here and have us all in tizzies and whirls > > and reacting so childishly when you toss such poisoned red meat to our > > slavering dogs. > > > > Just once. JUST ONCE. Come on, just once. Could you please peek out from > > behind the curtain and get real? > > > > But, even if not, even if not a one of us gets to see the Wizard, at least, > > pick on me. > > > > Xeno is gold here. > > > > He gives his attention. Don't you get that attention is love, and it > > doesn't matter what that attention has as its object of consciousness, and > > that he as if bathes the minds here with his clarity and his kindness? > > > > Can't you feel his vibe? > > > > Edg > > > > --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, nablusoss1008 <no_reply@> wrote: > > > > > Me thinks this xeno fellow ought to get back on his medication :-) > > >
