Celan and the mother tongue

I vaguely remember reading that Paul Celan, the Jewish-German poet born in Romania and going through the Shoah, had issues writing in German after the Holocaust.  That makes more than sense. Yet, wikipedia claims he said: "There is nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even when he is a …

Incarnation

to K. For some of us it is really hard to incarnate. The world of structure, the world of ideas,  both logic and aesthetics are safer than the world of that which is inchoate, and does not speak in any human tongue.  It is the human, the bedrock of the human. (Although philosophers think words …

Part of you

I so much like part of you. That part. I can almost fall in love with it, it's exceptional, it's fantastic, and unique, I haven't been able to find anything equal over the years. I don't think there can be another person like you. If that part is so awesome, the rest must be fantastic …

we coexist

particles of darkness along a spine deep-seated, held for generations in flesh that was held tight we coexist with small dark particles of darkness and light they easily penetrate our bodies small beings of light and dark easily visit and disperse the erasure of darkness is not the point. the earth is exactly halfway between …

Eclipse

hibernation slowness interiority clearly, the solstice has passed. clearly ... the inner ball of light takes on a glow becomes more distinct as the outer light fades. there is a relief. rain. there is a phase, justified by nature, for retreating. for thinking, for curling the energy inwards. digestion. of the year. (of the heat …

Who hasn’t

Who hasn't been a Jew? My mum has, certainly me in my dreams. Who in central Europe hasn't? Probably only those who lack sensitivity, imagination, and a taste for books and history. Certainly I eerily sensed my past in the streets of religious Jerusalem, and you keep coming back to Poland, to visit no one, …

Gifted at the ancient craft

Gifted with the ancient, long-forgotten craft We take flight We see the shadows on the other side of the mirror In a world that has lost its concept of that mirror Still, instinct is awake, and somehow, ancestral memory is reborn through spontaneous perception. . Talented at an ancient art In yet another era of …

The word

A word a thread words don't render images words don't render sensations, feelings yet, sometimes we can recognise each other when they easily fit. . we can perhaps only see each other, or feel each other without seeing and feeling, words are no bridge when there is seeing and feeling, words are game and play …

Freedom

Could I learn from you – freedom? I felt your heart wasn't chained your mind wasn't chained. You had no securities and you were at times fragile and naked like a snail or the wing of an insect, still moist and sticky. . Is this enough to be happy? . I wondered how you'd come …