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Infrequent & Divergent Thoughts & Images

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Photo: Cy Twombly- Flowers II (2005, Color dry-print on cardboard)

Reading to compliment: Einstein’s “Science and Civilization” speech given in 1933 at Albert Hall.

Thoughts at lunch: Yoko Ono’s early 60s conceptual art and Ana Mendieta. Running and breathing. Anna and Kendyl.

Between Islands

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I only desire to be

                surrounded by your sea.

An ocean apart

                from the choking whispers of life,

your arms wrap around me

                like a second skin

and provide me the protection

                not found within.

7/8/11
for Anna

Manhattan, Key West, Marathon, Amelia, Anna Maria

Post-Pangaea (for my brother)

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The negative space between your world and mine,
               which began as the year separating our births,
will inevitably end as a chasm.

Static pauses in your speech unsettle me as we talk over the phone.
I wonder which words to use to express myself
                while struggling to make sense of why speaking would help.
I have learned the closest communication occurs in gestures, both musical and non.
As Coltrane kisses the atmosphere through space and time and my car stereo,
                I am reminded of the silent desert stillness broken by the indeterminate drumming
                of rapid repeating fire that does not fill my days.

 

I miss you prior to your actual absence.


Muti killings happen every day one thousand miles from here,
                and children disappear- more often for less- much closer.
Currency is converted based on equations and standards that always change,
                while I speak no French and very little English.

Our memories betray history, and even my failures feel unique.
Somewhere, someone never met in this life,

                feels isolation’s painful a priori.


If countries fight like brothers,
          then all will eventually be forgiven.
I wonder if land has sensory memory of a time when things weren’t so divided.
I do.

jda
7/6/11

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A house, destroyed from the inside out, near our home. I pass it each day. Usually, I can see right through it. The light from the “backdoor” or hole in the back wall seems to bathe the entire interior. It is beautiful but probably not recognized as such by most passing drivers.

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East Village Evening (For Anna, March 2011) – Our honeymoon week, after watching Joe McPhee play solo trumpet and soprano saxophone at the University of the Streets on the evening of the “supermoon”. I was reading Auster’s Translations, just purchased at the Strand.