The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

May 26, 2007

4 poems (audio) (audio) (image)

For Byron (text)

Behold, the morning watch was come; the vessel lay
Behold, her course, and gently made her liquid way;
Behold the cloven billow flashed from off her prow
Behold, in furrows formed by that majestic plough;
Behold the waters with their world were all before;
Behold behind, the South Sea's many an islet shore.
Behold the quiet night, now dappling, 'gan to wane,
Behold, dividing darkness from the dawning main;
Behold the dolphins, not unconscious of the day,
Behold, swam high, as eager of the coming ray;
Behold the stars from broader beams began to creep,
Behold, and lift their shining eyelids from the deep;
Behold the sail resumed its lately shadowed white,
Behold, and the wind fluttered with a freshening flight;
Behold the purpling ocean owns the coming sun,
Behold, but ere we break--a deed is to be done.

(thanks for forwarding)

- beautiful!

remembrance of things past (commentary)

if i could write the proper theoretical accompaniment here, i would do so;
that i can't, literally goes without saying. it's too much; my chaotic
life allows at best fleeting glimpses into the grounding of the dream in
the real, the real in the dream - wait a minute, since there's neither,
since whatever analysis one might (dreamily) apply, as in a dream, takes
time beyond sleep, the dream screen-work inscribed, which takes place, as
in a dream, the real, which is the real. here avatar, who i dare not name,
to whom i dare not give a name, turns her, yes her, uncanny eye, movement,
muscle memory, towards that dancer of the dream, maud liardon, who has now
retreated back into the dream, the dream of maud liardon, as enacted by
this avatar, now my friend, my being, my dream, my very being, this avatar
who shall remain nameless, who refuses to name me, who has come forward to

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