Found Poem: Malamud on Metaphor

(From 'The Art of Fiction LII, ' an interview with
Bernard Malamud, in THE PARIS REVIEW)

'I love metaphor, '
said Bernard Malamud. 'It
provides two loaves where
there seems to be one. Sometimes
it throws in a load of fish.'

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Bernard Malamud

I work with language. I love the flowers of afterthought.

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Without heroes, we are all plain people and don't know how far we can go.

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Bernard Malamud

Life is a tragedy full of joy.

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If you ever forget you're a Jew, a Gentile will remind you.

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Bernard Malamud

Revision is one of the exquisite pleasures of writing.

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A writer is a spectator, looking at everything with a highly critical eye.

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Bernard Malamud

The idea is to get the pencil moving quickly.

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Bernard Malamud

We have two lives the one we learn with and the life we live after that.

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Bernard Malamud

There comes a time in a man's life when to get where he has to go - if there are no doors or windows he walks through a wall.

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Bernard Malamud

Those who write about life, reflect about life. you see in others who you are.

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The Advice That Anne Sexton Said She Would Give To A Young Poet

(A found poem from 'The Art of Poetry XV, ' an interview with
Anne Sexton, in THE PARIS REVIEW, Summer 1971)

'Be careful who your
critics are. Be specific.
Tell almost the whole
story. Put your ear close down
to your soul and listen hard.'

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I Love Paris

Every time I look down on this timeless town,
Whether blue or gray be her skies,
Whether loud be her cheers, or whether soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize that...
I love paris in the spring time
I love paris in the fall
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles
I
Love paris in the winter when it drizzles
I love paris every moment
Every moment of the year
I love
Paris, why oh why do I love paris
Because my love is here

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I Love Paris

Nat king cole
(cole porter)
(can-can)
Every time I look down on this timeless town
Whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize:
I love paris in the springtime.
I love paris in the fall.
I love paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles.
I love paris every moment,
Every moment of the year.
I love paris, why, oh why do I love paris?
Because my love is near.

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Going To Paris

We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
As the storm gathers slowly
We eat fishheads and snails
The mate jumps up, throws down a line
To a man overboard for the ninetieth time
And then he says with a wink
Sometimes I think
Ive been doing this forever!
We are going to paris
In a ship called the ? ?
There are signs in the sky at night
That the captain says hes seen
I keep books under my pillow
And read them before I sleep
Strange places I go to,
Strange companies I keep
We are going to paris
We are one and thirty strong
I can feel it in the air
Well be there before long
The wind has come
Like a man insane, insane
We are going to paris
It rains and it rains
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails

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Our last tango

I feel so lonely
In this room for two
Smoking your thoughts
And drinking your dreams
We're still in that Paris
Our Paris
Even we didn't dance yet
Our last tango
You're my sitting stone
I'm your throne
Just open your petrified heart
Only for a second
To understand
That stupid metaphor
Of being together
Which means
Occasionally
Love


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George Bernard Shaw

First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity.

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We may give without loving, but we cannot love without giving.

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George Bernard Shaw

First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity.

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Everyday there's something that reminds me why I love this sport.

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Translating love

Oh, how to report to truth
the many shades of love?

Saint Bernard of Clairvaux,
monk of a silent order
writing what he could not speak,
writes of love for brother monks
without embarrassment;
expatiates upon the Song of Songs,
erotic metaphor, with passionate, pure heart;

finds so many Latin terms
for all the shades of love,
of which we can translate to English speech
but a modest few – love, delight, affection, charity,
true friendliness; the glowing heart…

Then, pen laid down, the saint
returns to narrow cell – and love:
in silence, stillness, solitude,
pursues translation's lifelong art,
but now beyond all words;
holy love into the human heart.

Oh, how to report to truth
the many shades of love..

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