Wednesday, December 30, 2009
lost
Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book.
~ Marcus Tullius Cicero
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
after one look
Monday, December 28, 2009
swim to me, swim to me
Sunday, December 27, 2009
they could not lose their way
The path was narrow and wound here and there between the trees, but they could not lose their way, because thick vines and creepers shut them in on both sides. They had walked a long time when, suddenly turning a curve of the pathway, they came upon a lake of black water, so big and so deep that they were forced to stop.
"Little Wizard Stories of Oz," L. Frank Baum
[Winchester Street at Chicago Avenue]
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
ordinary eternal machinery
Hear is not the right word. I became a telephone. Edith was the electrical conversation that went through me.
—Well, what was it, what was it?
—Machinery.
—Machinery?
—Ordinary eternal machinery.
—And?
—Ordinary eternal machinery.
—Is that all you are going to say?
—Ordinary eternal machinery like the grinding of the stars.
—That’s better.
—That was a distortion of the truth which, I see, suits you very well. I distorted the truth to make it easier for you. The truth is: ordinary eternal machinery.
"Beautiful Losers," Leonard Cohen
[Carroll Street west of Damen Avenue]
—Well, what was it, what was it?
—Machinery.
—Machinery?
—Ordinary eternal machinery.
—And?
—Ordinary eternal machinery.
—Is that all you are going to say?
—Ordinary eternal machinery like the grinding of the stars.
—That’s better.
—That was a distortion of the truth which, I see, suits you very well. I distorted the truth to make it easier for you. The truth is: ordinary eternal machinery.
"Beautiful Losers," Leonard Cohen
[Carroll Street west of Damen Avenue]
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
you want to travel blind
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
everything terrible
Sunday, December 6, 2009
timeless raindrops
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
"A River Runs Through It," Norman Maclean
[Chicago River near Wacker Drive]
"A River Runs Through It," Norman Maclean
[Chicago River near Wacker Drive]
Saturday, December 5, 2009
color of hard crimson
You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
That day in Moscow, it will all come true,
when, for the last time, I take my leave,
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for,
Leaving my shadow still to be with you.
"You Will Hear Thunder," Anna Akhmatova
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
That day in Moscow, it will all come true,
when, for the last time, I take my leave,
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for,
Leaving my shadow still to be with you.
"You Will Hear Thunder," Anna Akhmatova
Friday, December 4, 2009
known knowns
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About Me
- Ray Pride
- Chicago, Illinois, United States