Nonexistence
Nonexistence flows from what is unpronounced,
the dried source of a watershed,
cisternal spaces in the head,
the prey at which no cat has pounced.
Christopher Lehmann-Haupt reviews 'For Common things: Irony, Trust and Commitment in America Today' (Alfred A. Knopf) by the 25 year old West Virginian, Jedediah Purdy. Purdy argues that irony such as that personified by Jerry Seinfeld, harms 'common things, ' by which he means all that is public, shared and ordinary. Thomas Carlyle wrote in 'Sartor Resartus': 'An ironic man, with his sly stillness and ambuscading ways, may be viewed as a pest to society.' The epigraph to his book comes from Czeslaw Milosz: 'What is unpronounced tends to nonexistence.'
9/9/99
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irony Of Nonexistence
Nonexistence flows from what is unpronounced,
the dried source of a watershed,
cisternal spaces in the head,
the prey at which no cat of Schrödinger has pounced.
Irony, the only way to coexist
with non-existence deconstructed,
like texts when reason is deducted,
is like frog prince that is begging to be kissed
Christopher Lehmann-Haupt reviews “For Common things: Irony, Trust and Commitment in America Today” (Alfred A. Knopf) by the 25 year old West Virginian, Jedediah Purdy. Purdy argues that irony such as that personified by Jerry Seinfeld, harms 'common things, ' by which he means all that is public, shared and ordinary. Thomas Carlyle wrote in 'Sartor Resartus': 'An ironic man, with his sly stillness and ambuscading ways, may be viewed as a pest to society.' The epigraph to his book comes from Czeslaw Milosz: 'What is unpronounced tends to nonexistence.'
I copy below the 9/9/99 Vorlage of this poem:
NONEXISTENCE
Nonexistence flows from what is unpronounced,
the dried source of a watershed,
cisternal spaces in the head,
the prey at which no cat has pounced.
9/9/99,11/8/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Real art is without irony. Irony distances the author from his material. Irony is a product of something. It's not the reason for doing something. Irony is a cheap shot.
quote by Robert Altman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We breathe, we think, we conceive of our lives as narratives.
quote by Christopher Lehmann-Haupt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The beginning of a plot is the prompting of desire.
quote by Christopher Lehmann-Haupt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Irony of Love
Irony is a literary or rhetorical device.
The essayist Henry Watson Fowler wrote:
“any definition of irony
—though hundreds might be given,
and very few of them would be accepted—
must include this,
that the surface meaning
and the underlying meaning of
what is said are not the same.'
He left out that any definition of
Irony must include that it is cruel.
I never understood
The meaning of irony
Or how cruel it can be,
Until you told me,
That though you may love me,
You find it difficult to
Hear the words
“I love you” from me.
You see, some three years ago
You jokingly said
'I love you' to me,
And I begged you
Never to utter those words again.
Not because I did not want to hear them,
But because they were difficult for me.
They carried heart-felt consequences
That I did not want to face.
So, I shut out my heart and followed my head.
And in life filled with so many regrets,
It was the biggest mistake I ever made.
The irony,
After some thousand days have past,
You uttered the same
Imprudent sentiment to me.
This sentiment is the definition of irony –
The surface meaning
And underlying meaning are not the same.
Because although I asked you not to say
“I love you”,
It is all I wanted to hear.
The cruelty,
That now that heaven has at last
Blessed, cursed me with
Clarity of the heart,
And I want to say what I mean
With no different underlying sentiment,
You tell me you do not
Want to hear these words from me.
But the most ironic and cruelest part,
Will be,
If you make the same mistake I made
And keep from me what is within your heart.
poem by Hal Caufield
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Solace Amongst The Sin
Farewell to the west now
And welcome, to the east
Farewell to the one who raked, the sand beneath my feet
Thank you for the space we shared, and the heart and soul my friend
I will see you through the colours, between the mountains as the sun decends
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Farewell to the west now
My mind is open to the east
To all the new faces, new minds & things to see
I am alone here, and my heart at times it weeps
You will see me through the colours, as the sun sinks in the sea
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
We will share again
We'll share again
Hmmm, hmmm, oh my friend we'll share again
Oh we will share again
song performed by by Xavier Rudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Solace Amongst The Sin
Farewell to the west now
And welcome, to the east
Farewell to the one who raked, the sand beneath my feet
Thank you for the space we shared, and the heart and soul my friend
I will see you through the colours, between the mountains as the sun decends
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Farewell to the west now
My mind is open to the east
To all the new faces, new minds & things to see
I am alone here, and my heart at times it weeps
You will see me through the colours, as the sun sinks in the sea
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
Oh we twisted and we reflected upon a grin
Common ground we walked upon, with common feelings & common things
Yes it is a cruel world, but there is solace amongst the sin
Peace to you for now we'll share again, we'll share again
We will share again
We'll share again
Hmmm, hmmm, oh my friend we'll share again
Oh we will share again
song performed by by Xavier Rudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Things were so bad we ate rabbits that neighbours had run over and gave to us because they knew we were broke.
There is no medical proof that television causes brain damage - at least from over five feet away. In fact, TV is probably the least physically harmful of all the narcotics known to man.
quote by Christopher Lehmann-Haupt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hidden Meaning
To death do us part
Does that mean death of the heart
Or growing old in age
That might be like being trapped for all your days
There are too many ways to look at this-but not enough time to comprehend
What this means, and where its meaning ends
Im not sure how to say it
But I’m sure you’ll understand-that it means love and life will exist to the end
Not necessarily together-no not at all
Love grows old and fades away
But some things are here to stay
Love them for all your time, and don’t forget what love was mine
To death do us part; the irony so discreet
And some of us, that irony will meet
When it happens then you’ll know
Why love and death are not one
So death do us part,
What do you say
Is your meaning for now and today
Or will it be for along the way
Until then, I will try
And even see what I can find
Death do us part, I’ll figure you out
And when I do, I’ll find that route
The path between death and love
And see if it intertwines
If it doesn’t then I’ll know
That life and love were meant to grow
To flourish in the great divine
Of course...that love wont be mine
poem by Anna Ragin
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A taste for irony has kept more hearts from breaking than a sense of humor, for it takes irony to appreciate the joke which is on oneself.
quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Natural Reaction
A reprobate? Who, me?
What's up with that?
Don't ask me to cozy up
and be your pal, please!
If I wanted, I could wreak
havoc on the whole crew!
By the way, can you define
irony for me?
Yes, I said irony!
I don't think you understand
the uses of irony, do you?
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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What Is Brought to This Table
What is brought to this table
Is experience.
Don't ask me what I bring!
It is certainly more than 'things'.
What you have...
May have had impressed others,
But here?
No experience equals no depth!
Those 'things' you offer?
In my heart do not endear!
And you may give me shade...
As you pass me in public view.
Thinking that may rain on my parade!
Since that's the only thing for me you can do!
However...
I'm quick to offer folks like you nonexistence,
In my mind and in my life!
You have no idea my 'aloneness' is something
I do not fear.
It has helped me clear wasteless utensils...
By the ups and downs I have witnessed!
And you 'and' your 'things' can disappear.
Am I making your vision any clearer?
They do not provide anything I will ever cherish.
I am not seeking to feed or nourish on that!
Trust me!
I have been served too much garbage.
It has taken years to discover my own taste!
And what I crave most,
Is being away from folks like you.
You are no appetizer to even consider.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills—
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn’t matter whether he knows what he serves:
Who serves best doesn’t always understand.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Every poet depends upon generations who wrote in his native tongue; he inherits styles and forms elaborated by those who lived before him. At the same time, though, he feels that those old means of expression are not adequate to his own experience.
quote by Czeslaw Milosz
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Justify
To add justice,
I did not scream nor cry,
I instead called,
“Irony.”
Yes,
Irony.
The strange noun that bites and slaps when least expected.
So, to justify,
I called Irony.
I would like it to be shown, to the court at least, that I did nothing wrong,
nor nothing right.
I called his name,
when he was gone from sight.
I whispered my wisdom,
to a deaf and blind old fool,
I gave my only love,
To one who would never love at all.
So,
To justify,
I believe I did not lose,
I just didn't win.
That is often the case with irony.
poem by Kaitey Cat
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I Sleep a Lot
I sleep a lot and read St. Thomas Aquinas
Or The Death of God (that's a Protestant book).
To the right the bay as if molten tin,
Beyond the bay, city, beyond the city, ocean,
Beyond the ocean, ocean, till Japan.
To the left dry hills with white grass,
Beyond the hills an irrigated valley where rice is grown,
Beyond the valley, mountains and Ponderosa pines,
Beyond the mountains, desert and sheep.
When I couldn't do without alcohol, I drove myself on alcohol,
When I couldn't do without cigarettes and coffee, I drove myself
On cigarettes and coffee.
I was courageous. Industrious. Nearly a model of virtue.
But that is good for nothing.
I feel a pain.
not here. Even I don't know.
many islands and continents,
words, bazaars, wooden flutes,
Or too much drinking to the mirror, without beauty,
Though one was to be a kind of archangel
Or a Saint George, over there, on St. George Street.
Please, Doctor,
Not here. No,
Maybe it's too
Unpronounced
Please, Medicine Man, I feel a pain.
I always believed in spells and incantations.
Sure, women have only one, Catholic, soul,
But we have two. When you start to dance
You visit remote pueblos in your sleep
And even lands you have never seen.
Put on, I beg you, charms made of feathers,
Now it's time to help one of your own.
I have read many books but I don't believe them.
When it hurts we return to the banks of certain rivers.
I remember those crosses with chiseled suns and moons
And wizards, how they worked during an outbreak of typhus.
Send your second soul beyond the mountains, beyond time.
Tell me what you saw, I will wait.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Every society rests in the last resort on the recognition of common principles and common ideals, and if it makes no moral or spiritual appeal to the loyalty of its members, it must inevitably fall to pieces.
quote by Christopher Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gathering
There was a gathering of time
in odd spaces.
There was a gathering of spaces
seeking my time, your time, our time.
There was a gathering of the Saving Graces
which bid us to lie down with peace
to bloom in time and space.
This was a gathering of hopes and dreams
in a space, in a time
with an individualized saving grace.
In gathering it seems-
if we come with only our individual sense
of time, space and grace-
we will have not gathered at all
and will have only succumbed to Sweet Ironic Irony.
'Place then' he said
'your eyes upon the Sun
and know that life is such that
sometimes you must be the moon.
'Place then' he said' your hand
knowing your space
sometimes
in life
must be our space or no space at all.'
'How' we all said
'is this trick to be done? '
He said 'no trick. It is the essence of all things
not only to change
but to be in essence
more than one thing;
even to be more than two
at the same time.'
'That is why' he said
uplifting his arm
'we can think two different,
even contradictory things
at the same time.
This is not artifact
but essence.
This is nature-
not mistake.
Who I am;
Who are we
is the same query
and the answer is for both:
both are we
and each is I
for all is multiples;
and Revelation;
there is no
Universal Rule
of Consistency;
we live in multiple multiplicities.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXV: Common Thing
It’s not a kindness of heart
It’s not strong solidarity
It’s just a common thing
It’s not local wisdom
It’s not old tradition
It’s just a common thing
It’s not call of duty
It’s not sense of right
It’s just a common thing
It’s not formal greeting
It’s not automatic response
It’s just a common thing
It’s not a matter of guessing
It’s not a part of instinct
It’s just a common thing
It’s not natural reaction
It’s not act of compassion
It’s just a common thing
It’s not regular news
It’s not lack of awareness
It’s just a common thing
It’s not general knowledge
It’s not piece of memory
It’s just a common thing
It’s not statistic range
It’s not operational standard
It’s just a common thing
It’s not moral excuses
It’s not people ignorance
It’s just a common thing
It’s not public secret
It’s not rhetoric question
It’s just a common thing
It’s not different mindset
It’s not basic solution
It’s just a common thing
It’s not absolute law
It’s not blind obedience
It’s just a common thing
It’s not sweet revenge
It’s not getting even
It’s just a common thing
It’s not constant worry
It’s not planted fear
It’s just a common thing
It’s not usual bickering
It’s not daily fight
It’s just a common thing
It’s not die hard habit
It’s not strange behavior
It’s just a common thing
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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