Monthly Archives: December 2008
four directions
East is the sun.
It is red, sacred fire, blood, life,
and success.
West is the moon.
It is black, full of old souls,
and death.
North is the cold.
It is blue and purple, trouble
and defeat lay that way.
South is the warmth.
It is white, peace, happiness
and may you find yourself there.
– Marya Ophir
George Bleich paintings for sale!
My uncle, George Bleich, seems to be having a hard time recently. He’s been an inspiration for me most of my life as someone whose been able to make a living at doing what he loves, art. Recently, via a story as long as a 10 year soap opera, he’s close to having his house foreclosed.
He’s having a sale on his original paintings. Check it out here.
Also, he has high quality prints which he touches up himself and often paints on the back and adds poetry. Check that out here.
His paintings are extraordinary. Here’s but one example:
Click on the painting above to see the poem he wrote to go with it.
George’s homepage is here. You’ll find all kinds of creative stuff there, including political opinion (some which I disagree with but love reading), songs, paintings, and poetry. You’ll even find very graphic photos of what happened to his foot after a stay in the hospital after hip surgery! They’re pretty harrowing so brace yourself!
Ancient and South Eastern and American
The world is a great flat island
resting precariously on the surface of the waters
suspended from the vault of the sky by four cords
attached at each point of cardinal direction.
The sky is an inverted bowl, a vault of solid rock.
It rises, it falls — twice each day.
Once at dawn, once at dusk
allowing passage of moon of sun.
There is the upper world, this world, and the underworld.
That is all.
Afterwards there are only the waters.
The upper world is structure, expectableness,
boundaries, limits, periodicity,
order, stability, time past
- and -
sun god, fire god, thunder god, rain god, moon god.
The Lower world is inversions, madness, invention,
fertility, disorder, change, time future
- and-
cannibals, ghosts, man-killers,
witches, monsters, various thunder spirits.
Our world is a precarious blend,
a balancing act between upper world and lower world,
between fire and water that shall not meet
less they both extinguish the other.
Our world is long leaf and slash pines, magnolias,
cypress, live oaks, sluggish meandering rivers,
innumerable swamps, cypress and cane, blackberries,
palmettos, gooseberries, grapes, prickly pears, sea grapes,
beavers, otters, raccoons, muskrats, opossums,
squirrels, rabbits, cougars, bobcats, foxes, wolves,
turkeys, snakes, turtles, terrapins, alligators, crawfish,
crabs, clams, mussels, oysters, sassafras, poplar,
blackberry, sycamore, sweet gum, persimmon, chestnuts,
hickory nuts, hazelnuts, walnuts, butternuts, chinquapins,
and us.
– Marya Ophir
magic is unkempt
From catharcyst:
they say that magic is unkempt
and it is the way i conduct my existence
Shame on they …
Cup of ants
From oh sweet death come for me: what a week:
The kitchen table is covered in white cotton,
and I am drinking a cup full of ants.
Also neat, cool dream poem.
Strive not for purity!
From Navel Orange:
to let the waters return
to their purity because that’s what we strive for
ultimately, to be awakened by something
that didn’t need to be pure,
didn’t need to try.
So close this calls it, yet misses. Then again, how can anyone hit such a target?
Purity is sterility. Nature continuously errs, yet through error finds itself. Therein lies the mystery.
If I find purity, I shall flee it.
I note the author has no space for comments. Call me fussy.
“My heart is a macy’s clerk”
From Digital Aardvarks:
Boom
the spirit of winter, don’t confuse memy heart is a macy’s clerk
Boom is the sound of fate
one need take care
when one sounds it.
Wolverine Origins preview
This certainly looks better than X-Men 3 was …
dreams viii
dreams of McDonald’s
clean and spiffy
utterly perfect and pristine
dreams of a bag of French fries
getting wet and cold
in the rain
dreams of a car that
slides on the cold water
and does pirouettes
dreams of accidental collisions
with future friends
leading to soft embraces
dreams of pupils so large
the iris is all but gone
and blood red whites
that hide the reality
of soft green that still remains
but only if you look close
dreams of soft conversations
tucked away somewhere safe
deep in the night
dreams of families
with irreconcilable differences
leading to violence
dreams of a hotel room
with purple tapestries, bedspreads, and carpets
all royal
a secret place
she’ll take me there
and share with me
her pain.
– Marya Ophir
