(no subject)
Jan. 12th, 2011 01:05 amSome 20th century American sublimities (verse):
There was a crush of strength in a grinding going round
Under the front of the westward evening star
The vigor of glory a glittering in the veins
As things emerged and moved and were dissolved
Either in distance change or nothingness
The visible transformations of summer night
An argentine abstraction approaching form
And suddenly denying itself away
There was an insolid billowing of the solid
Night's moonlight lake was neither water nor air
The forehead and the little ears
Have gone where Saturn keeps the years
There came a day there was a day one day
A man walked living among the forms of thought
To see their lustre truly as it is
And in harmonious prodigy to be
A while conceiving his passage as into a time
That of itself stood still perennial
Less time than place less place than thought of place
And if of substance a likeness of the earth
That by resemblance twanged him through and through
Releasing an abysmal melody
A meeting an emerging in the light
A dazzle of remembrance and of sight
These are your waters and your watering place
Drink and be whole again beyond confusion
It is like what we imagine knowledge to be
dark salt clear moving utterly free
drawn from the cold hard mouth
of the world derived from the rocky breasts
forever flowing and drawn and since
our knowledge is historical flowing and flown
As if the story of a house
Were told or ever could be
Wanderer
This is the prehistory of February
The life of the poem in the mind has not yet begun
You were not born yet when the trees were crystal
Nor are you now in this wakefulness inside a sleep
There was a crush of strength in a grinding going round
Under the front of the westward evening star
The vigor of glory a glittering in the veins
As things emerged and moved and were dissolved
Either in distance change or nothingness
The visible transformations of summer night
An argentine abstraction approaching form
And suddenly denying itself away
There was an insolid billowing of the solid
Night's moonlight lake was neither water nor air
The forehead and the little ears
Have gone where Saturn keeps the years
There came a day there was a day one day
A man walked living among the forms of thought
To see their lustre truly as it is
And in harmonious prodigy to be
A while conceiving his passage as into a time
That of itself stood still perennial
Less time than place less place than thought of place
And if of substance a likeness of the earth
That by resemblance twanged him through and through
Releasing an abysmal melody
A meeting an emerging in the light
A dazzle of remembrance and of sight
These are your waters and your watering place
Drink and be whole again beyond confusion
It is like what we imagine knowledge to be
dark salt clear moving utterly free
drawn from the cold hard mouth
of the world derived from the rocky breasts
forever flowing and drawn and since
our knowledge is historical flowing and flown
As if the story of a house
Were told or ever could be
Wanderer
This is the prehistory of February
The life of the poem in the mind has not yet begun
You were not born yet when the trees were crystal
Nor are you now in this wakefulness inside a sleep