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May 20, 2009

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The rival stories of the creation of man and woman in Genesis I and II are also rich. And the idea that light, and the division of day and night, precede the creation of sun, moon, and stars, could be taken to support a theory of the clockmaker divinity who creates the machinery to keep things running -- though it makes me think of Freud's contention that originally one word designated both day and night. Faithfully yours, and with thanks.

To add: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth; but the word of our God (or Creator / Artist / Poet) shall stand forever.
Isaiah 40:8
What else than the Word?! It, the Word, was in the beginning of all beginnings. It stands at the end too. Just to make the infinity loop perfect.

Yes, God is a poetic idea. God is created by an anonymous poet. God is the self portrait of a hyperactive, hypersensitive, lonely, longing, jealous, generous ...(fill in yourself) troubadour.

I love this story of the "world=garden=creation-in-7-days".

God - walking in his Eden and singing the blues.

Impossible not to get drunk with all the essences and elixirs, with all the images and thoughts! (Shakespeare, one incarnation from God's many - Shakespeare again! - gave the origin of the thought-flower-language with his Ophelia. Than another, the Swedish poet Harry Martinsson wrote that the scent of a flower was simply the flower's thought. And the composer Arvo Pärt says about his piece "Für Alina": every blade of grass would be as important as a flower... and the soul yearns to sing it endlessly. I recommend you to see also BJÖRK INTERVIEWS ARVO PÄRT on YouTube).

Berlin, 2.30 AM - there is a big party outside, the street ground is swinging with the techno rhythm, I'm going out sure to meet some new gods!

PS. mailing my post with delay of hours - today I got up very, very late - the party I went to ...

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Radio

I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark
                   

from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman


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THE RULE OF THUMB
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Ringfinger was nervous
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to the rule of Thumb.

 

 


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