Kurt Brindley's Blog, page 130
October 31, 2014
Setting the Mood
Filed under: Humor Tagged: childhood fears, clowns, culture, fears, Halloween, holidays, humor, music, scary clown videos, scary clowns, scary music, trick or treat
Pray
This was originally written for Poem Man…
However, the editorial staff made the determination that it juuuust wasn’t the right fit.
Perhaps it’s a better fit for this eve of the hallowed and haunted…
And yes, I am already in my costume…
Boo!
Filed under: Poetry Tagged: art, children's poetry, drawings, dreams, ghosts, Halloween, hell, monsters, Poem Man, poetry, prayers, rhymes, writing
October 30, 2014
Pray
This was originally written for Poem Man…
However, the editorial staff made the determination that it juuuust wasn’t the right fit.
Perhaps it’s a better fit for this eve of the Hallow’s Eve…
And yes, I am already in my costume…
Boo!
Filed under: Poetry Tagged: art, children's poetry, drawings, dreams, ghosts, Halloween, hell, monsters, Poem Man, poetry, prayers, rhymes, writing
Today is Ezra Pound’s birthday and I realize I don’t know much about him other than…
He did some edit work for TS Eliot…
He boxed with Hemingway…
He dug Japan…
He was a Nazi…or was he a fascist?…or both?
And…that’s about it.
So, to celebrate this day of the puzzlingly profound and persistently pedantic poet’s birth, I am going to read what Wikipedia has to say about him and I will meditate on and try to come to an understanding of one of his poems (I say try to come to an understanding because the reason I don’t know much about him to begin with is because his poetry is very difficult for me. Most good poets are, in fact, difficult for me, but he is like the template for difficult poets. I guess we could say, in diabolic honor of his nazi/fascist stain, he is the Dictator of Difficult).
Anyway…maybe you’ll join me in poetic meditation?
And since I’m an Old Salt of a Sailor, what better poem of his to meditate on than one of the sea…
The Seafarer
Pound, Ezra (1885 – 1972)
(From the early Anglo-Saxon text)
1…..May I for my own self song’s truth reckon,
2…..Journey’s jargon, how I in harsh days
3…..Hardship endured oft.
4…..Bitter breast-cares have I abided,
5…..Known on my keel many a care’s hold,
6…..And dire sea-surge, and there I oft spent
7…..Narrow nightwatch nigh the ship’s head
8…..While she tossed close to cliffs. Coldly afflicted,
9…..My feet were by frost benumbed.
10…Chill its chains are; chafing sighs
11…Hew my heart round and hunger begot
12…Mere-weary mood. Lest man know not
13…That he on dry land loveliest liveth,
14…List how I, care-wretched, on ice-cold sea,
15…Weathered the winter, wretched outcast
16…Deprived of my kinsmen;
17….Hung with hard ice-flakes, where hail-scur flew,
18…There I heard naught save the harsh sea
19…And ice-cold wave, at whiles the swan cries,
20…Did for my games the gannet’s clamour,
21…Sea-fowls, loudness was for me laughter,
22…The mews’ singing all my mead-drink.
23…Storms, on the stone-cliffs beaten, fell on the stern
24…In icy feathers; full oft the eagle screamed
25…With spray on his pinion.
26………….Not any protector
27…May make merry man faring needy.
28…This he little believes, who aye in winsome life
29…Abides ‘mid burghers some heavy business,
30…Wealthy and wine-flushed, how I weary oft
31…Must bide above brine.
32…Neareth nightshade, snoweth from north,
33…Frost froze the land, hail fell on earth then
34…Corn of the coldest. Nathless there knocketh now
35…The heart’s thought that I on high streams
36…The salt-wavy tumult traverse alone.
37…Moaneth alway my mind’s lust
38…That I fare forth, that I afar hence
39…Seek out a foreign fastness.
40…For this there’s no mood-lofty man over earth’s midst,
41…Not though he be given his good, but will have in his youth greed;
42…Nor his deed to the daring, nor his king to the faithful
43…But shall have his sorrow for sea-fare
44…Whatever his lord will.
45…He hath not heart for harping, nor in ring-having
46…Nor winsomeness to wife, nor world’s delight
47…Nor any whit else save the wave’s slash,
48…Yet longing comes upon him to fare forth on the water.
49…Bosque taketh blossom, cometh beauty of berries,
50…Fields to fairness, land fares brisker,
51…All this admonisheth man eager of mood,
52…The heart turns to travel so that he then thinks
53…On flood-ways to be far departing.
54…Cuckoo calleth with gloomy crying,
55…He singeth summerward, bodeth sorrow,
56…The bitter heart’s blood. Burgher knows not –
57…He the prosperous man — what some perform
58…Where wandering them widest draweth.
59…So that but now my heart burst from my breast-lock,
60…My mood ‘mid the mere-flood,
61…Over the whale’s acre, would wander wide.
62…On earth’s shelter cometh oft to me,
63…Eager and ready, the crying lone-flyer,
64…Whets for the whale-path the heart irresistibly,
65…O’er tracks of ocean; seeing that anyhow
66…My lord deems to me this dead life
67…On loan and on land, I believe not
68…That any earth-weal eternal standeth
69…Save there be somewhat calamitous
70…That, ere a man’s tide go, turn it to twain.
71…Disease or oldness or sword-hate
72…Beats out the breath from doom-gripped body.
73…And for this, every earl whatever, for those speaking after –
74…Laud of the living, boasteth some last word,
75…That he will work ere he pass onward,
76…Frame on the fair earth ‘gainst foes his malice,
77…Daring ado, …
78…So that all men shall honour him after
79…And his laud beyond them remain ‘mid the English,
80…Aye, for ever, a lasting life’s-blast,
81…Delight mid the doughty.
82……………..Days little durable,
83…And all arrogance of earthen riches,
84…There come now no kings nor Cæsars
85…Nor gold-giving lords like those gone.
86…Howe’er in mirth most magnified,
87…Whoe’er lived in life most lordliest,
88…Drear all this excellence, delights undurable!
89…Waneth the watch, but the world holdeth.
90…Tomb hideth trouble. The blade is layed low.
91…Earthly glory ageth and seareth.
92…No man at all going the earth’s gait,
93…But age fares against him, his face paleth,
94…Grey-haired he groaneth, knows gone companions,
95…Lordly men are to earth o’ergiven,
96…Nor may he then the flesh-cover, whose life ceaseth,
97…Nor eat the sweet nor feel the sorry,
98…Nor stir hand nor think in mid heart,
99…And though he strew the grave with gold,
100..His born brothers, their buried bodies
101..Be an unlikely treasure hoard.
Notes
1] Pound translates only the first 99 lines of the poem. His translation differs in many details from the original.
12] mere-weary: sea-weary.
17] scur: storm.
20] gannet: sea-bird.
22] mews: seagulls.
34] Nathless: nevertheless.
39] fastness: stronghold.
49] bosque: thicket, small wood.
81] doughty: brave.
Original Text:
Ripostes of Ezra Pound (London: Ovid Press, 1912): 25-30.
Publication Start Year:
1911
Publication Notes:
New Age 10.5:107
RPO poem Editors:
Ian Lancashire
RPO Edition:
RPO 1998.
Form: four-stress alliterative lines
The poem, notes, and additional matter are courtesy of the University of Toronto. The university retains copyright for all less the poem. Visit its site for more information.
The copyright for the drawing and all other riff raff belong to the Site Master & Purveyor of Fine Goods & Services.
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Filed under: Poetry Tagged: Author Birthdays, Ernest Hemingway, Ezra Pound, Famous Birthdays, fascist, Japan, Nazi, on this day, poetry, poets, T. S. Eliot, The Seafarer, writing
October 29, 2014
If Currin were to do landscapes…
In my flash piece The Sophistry of Now (yeah, I know…don’t look at me, I have no idea what it’s about either) the narrator describes his sudden return to reality from whatever dream sequence or daydream of a trip he had just been on as “…snapping into focus before him looking like a crazy beautiful melodramatic John Currin landscape (if he were to do landscapes).”
Now I’m no Currin aficionado, or even a fanboy for that matter – well, maybe I am a little…low level like. I just somehow became aware of his artistic existence sometime around the turn of the century, became compelled by it, checked it out online, dug it pretty heavily, and then pretty much let him go.
But his work never really let me go.
It is a beautiful, haunting meld of heaven and hell, angels and whores, peace and perversion.
KCET.org writes of Currin this way:
In almost every article written about John Currin, there’s a sentiment that says something like this: John Currin is disputably the most successful painter of his generation. His mixture of art historical techniques with sexual or perverse subject matter helps him create masterful but modern works.
As far as I can tell, he doesn’t do landscapes. However, in some of his portraits, the sky is used as a backdrop and from these pieces, we can get a glimpse of what his landscapes might look like if he were to focus wholly on them.
And they would probably look nothing like the pictures I am sharing with this write-up.
However, tonight’s sky lit up itself and the landscape surrounding my hood in a surreal heavenly, hellishly, beautifully apocalyptic way, a way that, whenever I am fortunate enough to experience it every now and again, always reminds me of a John Currin landscape, if he were to do them…
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Filed under: Art, Photography Tagged: art, fiction, flash fiction, john currin, KCET, landscapes, nature, photography, pictures, portraits, short stories, writing
Amazon.uk.co just emailed me to let me know that my order of “Hands of Evil” by author Melissa Barker-Simpson has been “dispatched”
Dispatched.
How cool is that?
I mean, you Brits are so awesome with your English all proper-like…
It’s like getting a little bit of Downton Abbey
delivered right to my inbox.
Speaking of Downton Abbey, what’s up with that show? I mean, is it some secret Brit MI6 diversion of a programme encoded with mind altering signals that make us fixate like drooling subservient servants on this most unlikely of a stuffy hit so they can go about putting their Empire of Old back in order without our realizing it?
I mean, I cannot get enough of this show…
And I’m not even sure why.
But I am sure of the massive irony in it all, all us oh so democratic and ultra egalitarian Americans lusting over one of the most autocratic and subservient ways of existence.
Well, lusting after the “upstairs” lifestyle, anyway.
Why would we want to lust after the “downstairs” way of life? It’s pretty much how most of us are already living.
No, we want to be lords and ladies…
Strike that.
We want to be kings and queens…
Come on. Admit it.
You’d wear that crown in a royal heartbeat.
I mean who wouldn’t want to be king and/or queen of his or/and her castle. And I’m not only speaking metaphorically here either.
All bow down before King Kurt!
Has a nice ring to it…
Just yesterday I was checking out the wonderful site of author M-R, and she has a beautiful post that shows a black-and-white photo of castle ruins somewhere in France as a representation of an expression of abandonment. It’s just a short post but it moved me and got me to thinking about how much more wonderful a place the US would be if we had our own ancient castles and castle ruins.
Man…
Anyway…
Heck, I don’t even know what Amazon US says when it “dispatches” an order to me…
Obviously, if I can’t recall it, it’s nothing as noteworthy and awesome as “dispatched.”
Probably something like, “Hey pal, did you just order something from us? Yeah, well, see here’s the thing. It just got shipped out…”
I don’t know…
I mean, I love my land and my people and all, but sometimes we can be a little rough around the edges, if you know what I mean.
Yeah…
Dispatched…
Royal awesomeness.
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Filed under: Culture, Humor Tagged: authors, books, culture, Downton Abbey, English, English humor, Hands of Evil, humor, language, Melissa Barker-Simpson, reading, writing
THE HANDS OF EVIL by Ms Melissa Barker-Simpson has been chosen as the inaugural selection for the Indie Author Book Selection & Review
ORIGINALLY POSTED OCTOBER 27, 2014
A hearty congratulations are definitely in order…
To me!
For I am the fortunate Reader who has just set himself off on the path of what looks to be a very interesting and exciting literary journey.
Congratulations are also in order to all of you, everyone, both Authors and Readers, who took the time and had the consideration to either submit their book for the selection and review process or who conscientiously looked over each of the submissions and offered their highly selective choice(s), in the form of a “Like,” of which impressed them the most. Because that’s really what this is all about. Not so much what book I choose and review, but on all of us participating in this Indie Revolution that’s going on all around us, this technological declaration of independence. We can be part of the movement by supporting each other through the purchase of Indie Books and, most importantly, by reviewing the Indie books you buy. I look at this similar to the movement to buy local. The more you buy local, the more you support your community; and the more you support your community, the more your community grows and prospers and ultimately makes the world, near and far, a much better place for all of us.
Yeah, I’m a little bit passionate about all of this. Truly I am.
This is an exciting time for Art in all its facets.
And finally, and equally important, if not mostly, congratulations to Melissa, for she has truly written what looks to be a very compelling book of fun and adventure.
But before we take a look at her book, let’s refresh ourselves with the guidelines, as limited as they were, that this Selection & Review thing is operating under. Here is a cut from the the solicitation announcement:
Tell us a little bit about both your book and your writing self in the comments section. You know, a short synopsis of the story and a short Author bio. Include just enough stuff, and no more, that you think I’ll need to be compelled to tab right out of my cozy little site and rush off to find your ode to literary perfection.
Not much to it, really. But enough, evidently, to illicit a wonderful response of Authors looking to showcase their unique and special writing talents.
And that makes me very happy.
So here is Melissa’s response, her pitch, to our call for her ode to literary perfection:
I was so drawn in by your post, and the humorous, yet generous offer to read MY book (you were talking to me, right?), I just had to respond. So…onto the sales pitch.
A few years ago, after listening to my brother (a soldier) talk about the camaraderie among his troop, and all the fun and interesting things they get up to (the jibes, the antics, the general merriment), a few good men (ha ha) began to form in my head. A team, if you will, of the best of the best. They are all ex-military, and came together to form a security agency. I’ve always loved thrillers, particularly crime thrillers, so I put them through their paces and set them free to explore the world I created for them.
My latest release, Hands of Evil, is the second in the Morgan and Fairchild series. The team are called upon by a local murder investigation team, when a serial killer starts picking off interpreters. A particularly unpleasant person, who removes his victims hands after their death.
It’s not as gruesome as it sounds, or certainly not as graphic!
Thanks for the opportunity to tell you more about my work :-)
Here’s the link:
Hands of Evil: Morgan and Fairchild Series: 2
Yeah, I know exactly what you’re thinking and I totally agree…
Awesomeness.
I don’t think it is necessary, or helpful, for me to go through a list of why I didn’t choose the other submissions.
What I will say is, based upon the guidelines we laid out, she did exactly what was needed to be done, and that was to compel me to want to read it.
And so did many of the other submissions. I really would like to read many, if not all, the books and stories. And who knows, maybe I will.
However, in my view, Melissa had all the elements of a successful proposal. She had a great pitch, she had a big cut of her book cover…and even just a quick glance around my site will tell you, even as verbose as I may be, I am a very visual guy. And, in addition to a successful pitch here, she has a wonderful website, professional as well as inviting, and a fully fleshed out Author’s Page at Amazon.
Yeah, I agree…
Quite the winning package.
Which is why her package of a pitch and proposal was my selection.
Congratulations, Melissa.
How about we all head right on over to Melissa’s website and offer her our congratulations in person, and take a look around a bit while we’re there:
So, off I go on a new reading adventure.
But it’s not over for you all. I hope and expect that you will look through the list of submissions and pick a book to read. And after you read it, review it, both on your website and at Amazon, at a minimum. And if you do that for me, for all of us, then the Literary Gods will look down upon you with great favor. And, in addition, if it’s a review that focuses less on what’s wrong with the book and more on what you learned from the book, then let me know, because I just might like to share it here with all the occasional readers and friends who stop by.
Will we do this again? I don’t know. I hope so. If you think we should, please leave a comment on this post to show your support for future Selections & Reviews. I would really appreciate knowing who is interested.
Okay?
And stay tuned for my review. I may have mentioned that I’m a bit of a slow poke reader so I am not about to predict when it will be up. But I’ll let you know.
All right?
Great.
Thank you, all. Thank you all very much.
Peace and Write On!
Filed under: Books Tagged: authors, book contests, book reviews, books, fiction, Indie Author Book Selection & Review, Indie Authors, Melissa Barker-Simpson, novels, reading, reviews, submissions, writing
October 28, 2014
Let’s Pretend
Let’s pretend
That the world is new
And all decisions to make
Are up to you.
You can make your world
How you want it to be.
Where will you begin?
I can’t wait to see.
The world is yours. What will you do?
Let’s pretend
That math is zoo.
And monkey = 1
And tiger = 2.
Giraffe = 3
And llama = 4.
Subtract lion from bear
And you’ll get zebras galore.
What’s your answer for leopard + π
Let’s pretend
That ground is sky,
And we no longer walk–
All we do is fly.
Better keep your head down–
Looking up might hurt.
Cuz when it rains
It’s raining dirt.
If ground is sky, then what is Neptune?
Let’s pretend
That the man on the moon,
Was not a guy named Neil
But a gal named Soon.
She went to the moon
To prove her brothers wrong:
They said the moon is just for men
And that women don’t belong!
If you were Soon, would you make a stand?
Let’s pretend for real
That peace is at hand,
And that the Golden Rule
Is the rule throughout the land.
If we all pretend
Then the angels might sing.
If the whole world pretends
Is it still pretending?
From Poem Man
Filed under: Poetry Tagged: abundance, angels, children's poetry, equality, family, Golden Rule, imagination, love, peace, Poem Man, poetry, pretending, rhymes, writing
The Shearing and the Shorn
Corn Field
Soy Field
I love my hood…
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Filed under: Photography Tagged: abundance, art, combines, corn, farm equipment, farms, fields, food, graphic art, graphic design, harvest, nature, photography, soy
