Merudanda, you are the necessary angel of FFL, since in your sight I see reality again, cleared of its stiff and stubborn pride-locked set.
--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, merudanda <no_reply@...> wrote: > > 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. > > > [:x] > > > > --- 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 :-) > > > > > >
