POETRY: "My Sad Self" by Allen Ginsberg

to Frank O'Hara

Sometimes when my eyes are red
I go up on top of the RCA Building
             and gaze at my world, Manhattan--
                       my buildings, streets I've done feats in,
                               lofts, beds, coldwater flats
--on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind,
                    its ant cars, little yellow taxis, men
                        walking the size of specks of wool--
Panorama of the bridges, sunrise over Brooklyn machine,
        sun go down over New Jersey where I was born
           & Paterson where I played with ants--
my later loves on 15th Street,
       my greater loves of Lower East Side,
             my once fabulous amours in the Bronx
                                           faraway--
paths crossing in these hidden streets,
    my history summed up, my absences
            and ecstasies in Harlem--
            --sun shining down on all I own
               in one eyeblink to the horizon
                     in my last eternity--
                                            matter is water.

Sad,
        I take the elevator and go
               down, pondering,
and walk on the pavements staring into all man's
                                                plateglass, faces,
              questioning after who loves,
        and stop, bemused
               in front of an automobile shopwindow
        standing lost in calm thought,
            traffic moving up & down 5th Avenue blocks behind me
                    waiting for a moment when...

Time to go home & cook supper & listen to
                    the romantic war news on the radio
                                         ...all movement stops
& I walk in the timeless sadness of existence,
    tenderness flowing thru the buildings,
           my fingertips touching reality's face,
    my own face streaked with tears in the mirror
           of some window--at dusk--
                                     where I have no desire--
    for bonbons--or to own the dresses or Japanese
                       lampshades of intellection--
Confused by the spectacle around me,
       Man struggling up the street
          with packages, newspapers,
                                     ties, beautiful suits
           toward his desire
       Man, woman, streaming over the pavements
           red lights clocking hurried watches &
              movements at the curb--

And all these streets leading
       so crosswise, honking, lengthily,
              by avenues
       stalked by high buildings or crusted into slums
              thru such halting traffic
                                screaming cars and engines
so painfully to this
       countryside, this graveyard
              this stillness
                                     on deathbed or mountain
       once seen
              never regained or desired
                                  in the mind to come
where all Manhattan that I've seen must disappear.


1958

POETRY: "Stand whoso list" by Sir Thomas Wyatt

Stand whoso list* upon the slipper* top
Of court's estates,* and let me here rejoice
And use me quiet without let or stop,*
Unknown in court, that hath such brackish* joys,
In hidden place so let my days forth pass
That when my years be done withouten noise,
I may die aged after the common trace,*
For him death grippeth right hard by the crop*
That is much known of other, and of himself, alas,
Doth die unknown, dazed, and with dreadful* face.



list - cares to

slipper - slippery

estates - high position

And use me quiet without let or stop - Comport myself quietly without hindrance or impediment from others

brackish - distasteful, unpleasant

trace - way

crop - throat

dreadful - fearful

MUSIC: "Country Girl" by Carolina Chocolate Drops

Not much to say here...a very good song that'll make you wish that you grew up in the South for a little bit.

MUSIC: "Futura" by Battles

The album Gloss Drop by Battles has been out for several months now, but I just got around to listening to it, so give me a break. "Futura" is one of the best songs on the album - it hooks you right away and keeps you mesmerized for six minutes, after which you will want to hear it again.

MUSIC: "Swerve... the reeping of all that is worthwhile (Noir not withstanding)" by Shabazz Palaces

I've yet to listen to Black Up, the LP by Shabazz Palaces, but after listening to "Swerve..." I am really gonna have to make it a priority. This track just makes your ears feel good.

POETRY: "A Part of the Forest" by Tomas Transtromer

This is an example of what you might call a prose poem. Prose poetry is a very loosely defined area of poetry -- essentially it is a poem written in prose form instead of verse form. Well why isn't it just prose then? Good question. Supposedly there are some lingering poetic qualities that mark it as prose poetry, but all of the good prose I read has scores of poetic qualities.

So prose poetry is difficult to define, but that doesn't change the fact that "A Part of the Forest" by Tomas Transtromer is a beautiful piece of writing. I sincerely hope you know a part of a forest somewhere like the one described in this poem. I think it's something that everyone needs.



A Part of the Forest

On the way there a pair of frightened wings clattered up, that was all. There you walk alone. It's a high building completely made of narrow cracks. A building that is always swaying but never falls. The thousandfold sun slips in through the cracks. In the play of light an inverted law of gravity prevails: the house is anchored in the sky, and everything that falls falls upward. You can turn around there. You can mourn there. There you dare look at certain old truths that otherwise are always kept packed away. The parts I play deep within float up there, hang like dried skulls in the ancestors' hut on some remote Melanesian island. An atmosphere of childhood around the spooky trophies. It's so mild in the forest.

MOVIE TRAILER: Holy Shit This Is Awesome

Okay, that's not actually the name of the movie. It's actually called The Raid. Here is the official description:

Deep in the heart of Jakarta’s slums lies an impenetrable safe house for the world’s most dangerous killers and gangsters. Until now, the run-down apartment block has been considered untouchable to even the bravest of police. Cloaked under the cover of pre-dawn darkness and silence, an elite swat team is tasked with raiding the safe house in order to take down the notorious drug lord that runs it. But when a chance encounter with a spotter blows their cover and news of their assault reaches the drug lord, the building’s lights are cut and all the exits blocked. Stranded on the sixth floor with no way out, the unit must fight their way through the city’s worst to survive their mission. Starring Indonesian martial arts sensation Iko Uwais.