JOHN ASHBERY

GOD WILL FIND THE PATTERN AND BREAK IT

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[johnashberypoetry-blog]

And now I cannot remember how I would have had it. It is not a conduit (confluence?) but a place. The place, of movement and an order. The place of old order. But the tail end of the movement is new. Driving us to say what we are thinking. It is so much like a beach after all, where you stand and think of going no further. And it is good when you get to no further. It is like a reason that picks you up and places you where you always wanted to be. This far, it is fair to be crossing, to have crossed. Then there is no promise in the other. Here it is. Steel and air, a mottled presence, small panacea and lucky for us. And then it got very cool.

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Most reckless things are beautiful in some way, and recklessness is what makes experimental art beautiful, just as religions are beautiful because of the strong possibilities that they are founded on nothing.

J.A.

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John Ashberry, Three Poems, 1972

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There is no freedom, and no freedom from freedom.

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Duets in the dust start up, begin. Again.

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Anticipated Stranger, the bruise will stop by later. For now, the pain pauses in its round, notes the time of day, the patient’s temperature, leaves a memo for the surrogate: What the hell did you think you were doing? I mean . . . Oh well, less said the better, they all say. I’ll post this at the desk. God will find the pattern and break it.

[johnashberypoetry-blog]

It is the law to think now. To think becomes the law, the dream of young and old alike moving together where the dark masses grow confused. We must drink the confusion, sample that other, concerted, dark effort that pushes not to the light, but toward a draft of dank, clammy air. We have broken through into the meaning of the tomb. But the act is still proposed, before us, it needs pronouncing.