Întîmplare Simplă

On Poetry and Craft

Fri, 11 May 2012 13:10 +0200

In poetry, there are no casual readers.
Nothing seen, nothing said.
The lyric is almost forgotten in this time of sawing and snoring and scraping.
Energy is the soul of poetry. Explosive active language.
Live in a perpetual great astonishment.
Rhythm depends on expecting.
The literal—that grave of all the dull.
I need the botanist’s leaf more than the poet’s flower.
Put it this way: I detest dogs, but adore wolves.
Eternal apprenticeship is the life of the true poet.
That intense profound sharp longing to make a true poem.
Those who are willing to be vulnerable move among mysteries.
Art is our defense against hysteria and death.
If we muddle and thump through a paraphrase, with side comments, however brilliant, we still do not have the poem.
Talent talks; genius does.
Poetry is an act of mischief.
A poetry of longing: not for escape, but for a greater reality.
The greatest assassin of life is haste.
Make ready for your gifts. Prepare. Prepare.

Theodore Roethke

...

Sun, 06 May 2012 08:18 +0200

Sometimes I look a the Moon, and I imagine that those darker spots are caverns, cities, islands, and the places that shine are those where the sea catches the light of the sun like the glass of a mirror...I would like to tell of war and friendship among the various parts of the body, the arms that do battle with the feet, and the veins that make love with the arteries or the bones with the marrow. All the stories I would like to write persecute me when I am in my chamber, it seems as if they are all around me, the little devils, and while one tugs at my ear, another tweaks my nose, and each says to me, 'Sir, write me, I am beautiful'.

Umberto Eco

Old Houses

Sun, 22 Apr 2012 08:37 +0200

Year after year after year
I have come to love slowly

how old houses hold themselves—

before November’s drizzled rain
or the refreshing light of June—

as if they have all come to agree
that, in time, the days are no longer
a matter of suffering or rejoicing.

I have come to love
how they take on the color of rain or sun
as they go on keeping their vigil

without need of a sign, awaiting nothing

more than the birds that sing from the eaves,
the seizing cold that sounds the rafters.

Robert Cording

Brutal

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 09:14 +0200

Brutal to give
the prisoner a window—
a blue sky glimpse—

as if an afterlife
existed. Brutal
for you to parade

in a body
in the same
room where I dream you.

Andrea Cohen

Dance with Fellini

Thu, 12 Apr 2012 18:49 +0200

I discovered that what's really important for a creator isn't what we vaguely define as inspiration or even what it is we want to say, recall, regret, or rebel against. No, what's important is the way we say it. Art is all about craftsmanship. Others can interpret craftsmanship as style if they wish. Style is what unites memory or recollection, ideology, sentiment, nostalgia, presentiment, to the way we express all that. It's not what we say but how we say it that matters.
Talking about dreams is like talking about movies, since the cinema uses the language of dreams; years can pass in a second and you can hop from one place to another. It’s a language made of image. And in the real cinema, every object and every light means something, as in a dream

Federico Fellini

two worlds

Mon, 09 Apr 2012 11:17 +0200

Between two worlds life hovers like a star,
Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon’s verge.
How little do we know that which we are!
How less what we may be! The eternal surge
Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar
Our bubbles; as the old burst, new emerge,
Lash’d from the foam of ages; while the graves
Of empires heave but like some passing waves.

Lord Byron, from Don Juan, Canto XV, 99

To the Angelbeast

Sun, 01 Apr 2012 09:20 +0200

All that glitters isn’t music.

Once, hidden in tall grass,
I tossed fistfuls of dirt into the air:
doe after doe of leaping.

You said it was nothing
but a trick of the light. Gold
curves. Gold scarves.

Am I not your animal?

You’d wait in the orchard for hours
to watch a deer
break from the shadows.

You said it was like lifting a cello
out of its black case.

Eduardo C. Corral

Fox in A Man Suit

Wed, 28 Mar 2012 07:59 +0200

Masked, gloved, brush tucked flat
against her back, faint with heat

this vixen is silent at soirees,
attentive to talk of defence, the public purse.

Emissary from the wild woods, agent
from the other side, she shakes her head

at wine, at canapés, she gags on human
stench, their meat and sweat.

When taxis come, she slips through kitchens,
drops to all fours (still in black tie),

sprints along the back streets
like a feral duke until she meets the edgelands

where – rubbed on the shuck of a tree –
her man-skin peels off

like a calyx and the sleek red flower unfurls.
Tongue drinks in the cold,

nose down in leaf mould, deep rush and tow
of attachment, of instinct. I, the only witness,

take this for a resurrection (body sloughed
and after-life as fox-soul), so I watch

in awe and slow my breath until
she catches sight and howls and howls.

MICHAEL SYMMONS ROBERTS

sturm und drang

Mon, 26 Mar 2012 08:48 +0200

In the storm of roses
the night is lighted by thorns
and the leaves that formerly lay on the ground in peace
are now screaming under their bare skin

screaming to welcome
love that is approaching.

Here,
in this barren land
(the asylum of imagination)
the silent call of nature is vibrating,
the secret gift is ripening.

Her enigmatic self-denial
in the winter’s solitude
transforms the bare symbols
(the glaring beauty of gazes)
into an eloquent miracle.

The wind
is agitating the foliage of the mind
with wet promises.

(The truth: two bodies
fighting on the moistened ground.)

HARIS VLAVIANÓS

Motion Diva by Călina Langa

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 20:50 +0200

"Colecția MOTION DIVA are ca punct de plecare designul promovat de Cristóbal Balenciaga, întemeindu-se pe principiile eleganței și purtabilității promovate de creator, aduse însă într-o notă contemporană.
Evoluție, mai degrabă decît revoluție, distincție și decorativism, mai degrabă decît originalitate cu orice preț; siluetele aparent complicate ale rochiilor de gală, confecționate din materiale prețioase, se pot deconstrui ușor în piese purtabile și interșanjabile, ce pot fi folosite și în alte momente și ocazii, oferindu-ne, astfel, perspectiva unei femei în mișcare, ce nu dorește să renunțe la eleganță și atitudine.”

Călina Langa - fashion designer

see the entire collection here