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| m.cassapidis, 2016 |
Showing posts with label water. Show all posts
Showing posts with label water. Show all posts
2 May 2016
17 April 2015
is the image the object?
What Voice Is That?
Suddenly
we hear a voice.
Far away, up above.
It is a space stiff, arrogant hands
will never be able to touch.
A radiance
snow and white nights can never get near to.
In the gloomy soul
it has been planted, dazzling.
It is a shining metal thread
someone plucks from the heart.
Only a god
could open its lips on this
dismal night.
Only a god
could make people stuck fast in sickness
feel moved.
Light:
those who have lost their legs
will all pursue it, gliding away
while those who cannot see the lamplight
reach out their hands
joining with it to become a sparkling ray.
What voice is it
what is the name of this god of song
who gently stirs the pain.
Wang Xiaoni
the light- bringers...:Celan
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| m.cassapidis,2015 |
The bright stones
The bright
stones ride through the air, bright
white, the light-
bringers.
They want to
not sink, not fall,
not collide. They rise
up,
like slender
dog roses they break open,
they float
toward you, my gentle one,
you, my true one—
Celan
Look around: see how things all come alive—Celan
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| m.cassapidis, 2015 |
Speak You Too
Speak you too,
speak as the last,
say out your say.
Speak—
But don’t split off No from Yes.
Give your say this meaning too:
give it the shadow.
Give it shadow enough,
give it as much
as you see spread round you from
midnight to midday and midnight.
Look around:
see how things all come alive—
By death! Alive!
Speaks true who speaks shadows
Celan
9 April 2015
18 May 2014
A note as from a single place...
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| ©m.cassapidis, 2014 |
A note as from a single place,
A slender tinkling fall that made
Now drops that floated on the pool
Like pearls, and now a silver blade.
Robert Frost
from Going For Water
7 August 2013
Remember your deepest name: Naomi Shihab Nye
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| ©fourteenth |
1.
Japanese teacher says:
At first light, rise.
Don’t hover between
sleep and waking,
this makes you heavy,
puts a stone inside your heart.
The minute you drift back to shore,
anchor. Breathe.
Remember your deepest name.
Naomi Shihab Nye
from Breaking the Fast
10 November 2012
...the lifting of the mist
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| ©fourteenth |
as if you were implicated
the lifting of the mist
from the water
the grey wake of a boat
unmoored at dawn
Thomas A. Clark
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