tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139249012024-03-23T14:54:31.647-04:002x3x7Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing wax --
Of cabbages -- and kings --
And why the sea is boiling hot --
And whether pigs have wings.Falstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.comBlogger1520125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-48524156758257343752011-07-31T00:24:00.004-04:002011-07-31T00:26:40.076-04:00Like snow, falling"poetry lights up life from time to time like snow, falling, and you have achieved a great deal already if you have kept eyes to see it."<br /><br />- Philippe Jaccottet, from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Seedtime-Phillipe-Jaccottet/dp/0811206378"><span style="font-style: italic;">Seedtime</span></a><br /><br />(translated from the French by Andre Lefevere)Falstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-45726776017789208572011-07-06T11:57:00.001-04:002011-07-06T11:59:44.104-04:00In Short"It seems to me that when you write a short story, you have to cut off both the beginning and the end. We writers do most of our lying in those spaces. You must write shorter, to make it as short as possible.”<br /><br />- Anton Chekhov<br /><br />(from: <a href="http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2011/jul/05/memories-chekhov/">the NYRB blog</a>)Falstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-86817156988837480332011-07-06T08:19:00.002-04:002011-07-06T08:22:32.956-04:00Shades of Eternal Night<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.philamuseum.org/images/cad/large/1989-90-9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 249px;" src="http://www.philamuseum.org/images/cad/large/1989-90-9.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">R.I.P. Cy Twombly</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">[Image taken from <a href="http://www.philamuseum.org/collections/results.html?searchTxt=&bSuggest=1&searchNameID=16643">here</a>]<br /></div></div>Falstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-75583961396909028842011-06-12T11:15:00.004-04:002011-06-12T11:30:06.666-04:00All in the mindReading Marcia Angell's piece in the <a href="http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2011/jun/23/epidemic-mental-illness-why/">latest NYRB on the treatment of mental illness</a> (an interesting read btw), I found myself wondering if it really makes sense to speak of placebo effects in the context of mental disease. If you believe you're less depressed, aren't you, in fact, less depressed? And if a course of treatment can make you believe you're less depressed, then doesn't that make it a valid cure for your condition, even if it has no chemical or physiological benefits whatsoever?<br /><br />In other words, what if the most effective treatment for depression were to create the illusion of treatment: administering what are basically sugar pills, but convincing the patient, through a combination of advertising and pseudo-scientific research that he / she is getting better? A treatment that would work just so long as the illusion lasted?Falstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-70197396224971497302011-06-05T02:03:00.003-04:002011-06-05T02:08:50.070-04:00MeltAll winter the snow made the roads impassable<br />I wrote page after page thinking of you.<br /><br />Now the water flows free down the mountain<br />And I must decide if these words are worth sending.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-25492064119846879462011-06-01T23:52:00.002-04:002011-06-01T23:53:41.781-04:00The Sound of the MountainYou say you don't understand<br />Why I listen to the mountains.<br /><br />If I could find a true stranger<br />I could explain myself.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-55626219693937510202011-06-01T00:17:00.002-04:002011-06-01T00:20:19.101-04:00The Cat and The ButterfliesI sit in the yard and watch<br />My cat chasing butterflies.<br /><br />I admire his technique.<br />I hope they get away.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-54039158723672760092011-06-01T00:11:00.002-04:002011-06-01T00:12:39.485-04:00The Open RoadNo more shall I be tempted<br />By the welcoming road.<br /><br />He who has no door<br />Cannot leave it open.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-45707355844515922252011-05-29T19:22:00.002-04:002011-05-29T19:24:02.207-04:00The Friendship of StrangersBrief as a storm is the friendship of strangers<br />Just two days since we first met<br /><br />Yet the sound of laughter flooding my house<br />Makes me forget the rain outside.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-94785755368442252011-05-29T01:06:00.003-04:002011-05-29T01:15:00.783-04:00Home is where the hatred isprivacy of self-<br />righteousness<br /><br />the need to be/long<br /><br />these are the songs<br />you were born to<br /><br />battle lines drawn<br />in the powdered cocaine<br /><br />white as the snow<br />on TV<br /><br />a frenzy contained<br />disconnection<br /><br />you claim<br />for your own<br /><br />home<br /><br />more a direction<br />than a state<br /><br />an addiction<br />to hate<br /><br />you run away from<br />come back to<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">refrain</span><br /><br />***<br /><br />Where does it stop?<br /><br />Knock Knock.<br />Who’s there?<br /><br />Opportunity.<br />Or the cops.<br /><br />You think this is a joke?<br /><br />this is your mouth talking smack<br />these are your words up in smoke<br /><br />this is the man at the door<br />come to repossess your pride<br /><br />this is the voice you keep inside<br /><br />this is the rainbow of no choice<br />on a blood-slicked street<br /><br />this is the sound of your feet<br />in the neighborhood of soul<br /><br />the sound of defeat<br /><br />the sound of illegal heartbeats<br />brought and sold<br />on every street corner<br /><br />this is the dream of honor<br />deferred<br /><br />of violence betrayed<br /><br />in words<br />in breath<br /><br />the instruments we have left<br />uniting to say<br /><br />the day of your death<br />was a black Black day.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">R.I.P. Gil Scott-Heron<br /><br /></span><span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Links:</span><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOUMvjw9RlA"><br />the song this post takes its title from</a><br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/29/arts/music/gil-scott-heron-voice-of-black-culture-dies-at-62.html?_r=1&hpw">NY Times obit</a><br /><a href="http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/08/09/100809fa_fact_wilkinson?currentPage=all">New Yorker profile </a></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span></span>Falstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-41518151236136557012011-05-17T22:56:00.003-04:002011-05-17T22:57:43.523-04:00Awaiting the stormHaving touched the great river with my fingertips<br />I am ready to offer my hands to the rain<br /><br />The wind blows from the North tonight <br />And the forest is full of empty gestures. <br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-60334544870130092902011-05-16T22:04:00.001-04:002011-05-16T22:12:41.625-04:00The CraneReflection of crane standing<br />On one foot in the water<br /><br />The silence between us<br />I cannot describe. <br /><br /> - Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-48634023386859991172011-04-30T13:59:00.001-04:002011-04-30T14:01:25.244-04:00DawnThe rooster in my courtyard<br />Claims the sun for his own.<br /><br />Far away the snowcapped peaks<br />Blush to be discovered<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-61419982264104583642011-04-30T13:56:00.001-04:002011-04-30T13:58:09.609-04:00RejectionYou said you were sorry<br />Your words as soft<br /><br />As the last snow falling<br />On the first cherry blossoms.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-80168648222123801272011-04-29T01:37:00.002-04:002011-04-29T01:42:57.076-04:00The Unseen MountainWho questions the mountain's presence<br />Hidden away behind the clouds?<br /><br />Let others speak of faith and doubt<br />I am silent with sincerity.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-82192529288777416232011-04-29T01:27:00.003-04:002011-04-29T01:36:09.122-04:00The CuckooAll day a cuckoo across the valley<br />Repeats its foolish hope.<br /><br />Until we leave off talk and listen<br />As though in answer.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-52043727643317241222011-04-23T12:34:00.002-04:002011-04-23T12:39:01.272-04:00Singing on the lake strandThe waves make a music so subtle<br />Only the stones can hear<br /><br />I feared my songs didn't move you<br />Until I saw you wink.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-29839498972862229512011-04-23T08:55:00.003-04:002011-04-23T09:00:26.390-04:00ShadowsI sit in the white cloud's shadow<br />It passes and I know<br />The wind is blowing.<br /><br />I sit in the mountain's shadow<br />It passes and I know<br />The sun has shifted.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-18270627325513418952011-04-23T00:39:00.001-04:002011-04-23T00:41:55.278-04:00The Spiral WaySearching for the peak<br />I advance in circles<br /><br />Like a knife peeling<br />The skin of a fruit.<br /><br /> - Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-19537431458564728362011-04-17T22:57:00.003-04:002011-04-17T23:02:37.463-04:00The CrowThere are those who keep orioles in well-wrought cages<br />I have only this crow I feed when I can<br /><br />She comes and goes through my open window<br />Bringing twigs and dead morsels, sometimes a leaf.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-73113681044390729912011-04-13T00:32:00.002-04:002011-04-13T00:41:56.474-04:00Rowing AcrossA man with two oars chooses no sides,<br />Keeps his balance, travels fast. <br /><br />A man with only one pays attention<br />To the currents, struggles to find his way.<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-42400066099900616092011-04-12T01:30:00.002-04:002011-04-12T01:32:39.264-04:00Winter SongFledgling snow in the nightingale's nest<br />And the sky aches with ten thousand stars. <br /><br />Sometimes, when the night is still<br />I hear, far away, the gibbons calling. <br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-42420079831413549742011-04-12T01:29:00.003-04:002011-04-12T01:33:37.482-04:00The Last WatchI too have lain awake at night<br />And heard the watchman calling the hours.<br /><br />I too have woken to an unlocked door<br />Grateful for all the thief left behind. <br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-35055977486439618352011-04-09T23:36:00.002-04:002011-04-09T23:39:16.609-04:00Old Man's Winter NightI am too old to throw stones at the moon<br />But sometimes, when the night is dark<br />I will step out, and raise my lantern<br />High above my face as if to seek the stars. <br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13924901.post-47543435460671991382011-04-07T01:22:00.003-04:002011-04-07T01:25:49.444-04:00WellEmptying a jar of clear water<br />I disturb the tranquil well.<br /><br />How can I tell the peace I feel<br />And not break into words?<br /><br />- Hu Ming-XiangFalstaffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791162324919462038noreply@blogger.com2