THIS IS ONE OF THE LAST ONES, BY MINA LOY
Marble
Greece has thrown white shadows
sown
their eyeballs with oblivion
A flock of stone
Gods
perched upon pedestals
A populace
of athlete lilies
of the galleries
swoop the facades of space
with spiral curves
of idol substance
in the silence
A colonnade
Apollo haunts Apollo
with the shade
of a lost hand
A dream to some, a nightmare to others: sex, magic and myth on the set of Excalibur https://www.telegraph.co.uk/films/0/dream-nightmare-others-sex-magic-myth-set-excalibur/
Excalibur’s Ending. https://youtu.be/XwK90ecdrXg via @YouTube
The final scene is definitely in my TOP SEVEN movie endings.
Beethoven: Sonata No.16 in G Major, Op.31 No.1 (Kovacevich, Goode) https://youtu.be/q7LXQVxd6xA via @YouTube
The first Op.31 sonata is by far and away the funniest of all Beethoven’s 32 sonatas, and it’s kind of hard to explain why it isn’t one of the most famous of them all: all the movements feature attractive melodies, and it brims with good humour from the subtle to the ironically crass. You’ve got the first movement, where the hands can’t play together and the development is built almost entirely around an apparently inconsequential motif, the second, which is a joyfully overlong and increasingly absurd parody of (bad) Italian opera, and the third, full of wily chromatic movement and wry counterpoint.
HAPPY 250TH ANNIVERSARY
REVOLT – Against the Crepuscular Spirit in Modern Poetry
I would shake off the lethargy of this our time,
and give
For shadows—shapes of power
For dreams—men.
“It is better to dream than do”?
Aye! and, No!
Aye! if we dream great deeds, strong men,
Hearts hot, thoughts mighty.
No! if we dream pale flowers,
Slow-moving pageantry of hours that languidly
Drop as o’er-ripened fruit from sallow trees.
If so we live and die not life but dreams,
Great God, grant life in dreams,
Not dalliance, but life!
Let us be men that dream,
Not cowards, dabblers, waiters
For dead Time to reawaken and grant balm
For ills unnamed.
Great God, if we be damn’d to be not men but only dreams,
Then let us be such dreams the world shall tremble at
And know we be its rulers though but dreams!
Then let us be such shadows as the world shall tremble at
And know we be its masters though but shadow!
Great God, if men are grown but pale sick phantoms
That must live only in these mists and tempered lights
And tremble for dim hours that knock o’er loud
Or tread too violent in passing them;
Great God, if these thy sons are grown such thin ephemera,
I bid thee grapple chaos and beget
Some new titanic spawn to pile the hills and stir
This earth again.
EZRA POUND (from Poems and Translations
I must live in my lantern
Trimming subliminal flicker
Virginal to the bellows
Of Experience (Mina Loy)
… as I continue to search for my fugitive director …
WALES – POPULATION 3.2 MILLION COVID19 DEATHS 1,543
Hold My Beer@holdmyale·1hHold my beer while I do a flip. https://pic.twitter.com/A6eeXtOyBr
(AS I CONTINUE TO FOLLOW MY FUGITIVE STAG)
The Annotated “Songs to Joannes,” by Mina Loy (1917)
XIII
Come to me There is something
I have got to tell you and I can’t tell
Something taking shape
Something that has a new name
A new dimension
A new use
A new illusion
It is ambient And it is in your eyes
Something shiny Something only for you
Something that I must not see
It is in my ears Something very resonant
Something that you must not hear
Something only for me
Let us be very jealous
Very suspicious
Very conservative
Very cruel
Or we might make an end of the jostling of aspirations
Disorb inviolate egos
Where two or three are welded together
They shall become god
— — — — — — — —
Oh that’s right
Keep away from me Please give me a push
Don’t let me understand you Don’t realise me
Or we might tumble together
Depersonalized
Identical
Into the terrific Nirvana
Me you — you — me
The Fugitive Stag 