In such a world of conflict, a world of victims and executioners, it is the job of thinking people, as Albert Camus suggested, not to be on the side of the executioners.
A People's History of the United States, Howard Zinn
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In such a world of conflict, a world of victims and executioners, it is the job of thinking people, as Albert Camus suggested, not to be on the side of the executioners.
A People's History of the United States, Howard Zinn
In the winter I am writing about, there was much darkness. Darkness of nature, darkness of event, darkness of the spirit. The sprawling darkness of not knowing. We speak of the light of reason. I would speak here of the darkness of the world, and the light of _______. But I don’t know what to call it. Maybe hope. Maybe faith, but not a shaped faith—only, say, a gesture, or a continuum of gestures. But probably it is closer to hope, that is more active, and far messier than faith must be. Faith, as I imagine it, is tensile, and cool, and has no need of words. Hope, I know, is a fighter and a screamer.
from “Winter Hours”; Mary Oliver
For how long can humans stay inside a poem?
Kim Hyesoon, "Korean Zen" from Phantom Pain Wings (translated by Don Mee Choi)
"Only the sorrow of going to sleep and waking up, feeling life without knowing where it comes from, aware that it will flee without knowing why it was given to you, why it is taken from you. Here you are: there is this and this and this. And now, enough.”
Mercè Rodoreda
You say to the boy open your eyes
When he opens his eyes and sees the light
You make him cry out. Saying
O Blue come forth
O Blue arise
O Blue ascend
O Blue come in
Derek Jarman
Toward world's end, through the bare
beginnings of winter, they are traveling again.
How many winters have we seen it happen,
watched the same sign, come forward as they pass
cities sprung around this route their gold
engraved on the desert, and yet
held our peace, these
being the Wise, come to see at the accustomed hour
nothing changed: roofs, the barn
blazing in darkness, all they wish to see.
The Magi --Louise Glück
There are two ways to escape suffering it.The first is easy: accept the inferno & become part of it that you can no longer see it.The second: seek & learn to recognize who and what, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.
Italo Calvino - Invisible Cities
I'm not exactly sure which wound is the one I belong to.
Hanif Abdurraqib, The Crown Ain't Worth Much
In a general way it’s very difficult for one to become remarkable.
Joseph Conrad, Chance
I am tortured by my heart which they say is my mind. (…) I have no mind. / It hurt me too much.
Alice Notley, from In the Pines
I think when you've been in one place long enough, it starts to feel like that's the whole world, you know? Seeing anything beyond it is hard. Like, it doesn't even feel possible? And I think a part of me has been fighting to keep things that way in my life. Uncomplicated and easy. Which I guess is a kind of safety.
Family meal - Bryan Washington
Ada Limón, from "Shelter: A Love Letter to Trees,"
“I am tired of measure, control, doing the right thing. A part of me would like to tear something apart and howl like a wolf.”
— May Sarton, Recovering: A Journal
What is left Of me is a shadow Among shadows
The Last Poem - Robert Desnos
You say it doesn't mean a blessed thing, but don't you see—that's what I want. That's what I envy.
Robert Thomas
what is your heart doing now?
"remembering. Remembering!"
Felicity == Mary Oliver
Don't ever forget, that the least fascist among fascists also are fascists.
— Roque Dalton (trans. Jack Hirschman)