Dreams are my reality

from me to you : a message of love...

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the Howl

Soon to a theater near you.

A. Ginsberg definitely gets a treat with James Franco's face.

James Franco : a Ginsberg poem.


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Sweet

can you really resist that ?


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Pagan Poetry 6 : Thunder

" I have gone to find lightning. Don’t worry about me.”


Ellen Gilchrist "Starcarbon"




There's a storm outside, and the gap between crack and thunder



Crack and thunder, is closing in, is closing in


The rain floods gutters, and makes a great sound on the concrete


On a flat roof, there's a boy leaning against the wall of rain


Aerial held high, calling "come on thunder, come on thunder"






Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul


Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul






It's a monsoon, and the rain lifts lids off cars


Spinning buses like toys, stripping them to chrome


Across the bay, the waves are turning into something else


Picking up fishing boats and spewing them on the shore






The boy is hit, lit up against the sky, like a sign, like a neon sign


And he crumples, drops into the gutter, legs twitching


The flood swells his clothes and delivers him on, delivers him on






Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul


Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul






There's four new colors in the rainbow


An old man's taking polaroids


But all he captures is endless rain, endless rain


He says listen, takes my head and puts my ear to his


And I swear I can hear the sea



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A Few Softer Words

Sometimes when we're really down, we go here and then, everything gets better.



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Pagan Poetry 5 : Victor Hugo & Franz Liszt

Despite the great version sung by Diana Damrau, since we saw Barbara Bonney sing it, we just can't get it out of our head, and it's monday morning and everybody needs a bit of tenderness sometimes.

The lyrics are from Victor Hugo and the music by Liszt


Oh! When I Sleep

Oh, when I sleep, approach my bed,
As Laura appeared to Petrach;
And when in passing, your breath touches me...
Suddenly my lips
Will part!

On my glum face, where perhaps is ending
A dark dream which lasted too long,
As your glance like a star arises...
Suddenly my dream
Will become radiant!

Then on my lips, where a flame is fluttering,
A flash of love that God has kept pure,
Place a kiss, and from an angel, become a woman...
Suddenly my soul
Will be awakened.





Oh! quand je dors, viens auprès de ma couche,
comme à Pétrarque apparaissait Laura,
Et qu'en passant ton haleine me touche...
Soudain ma bouche
S'entrouvrira!

Sur mon front morne où peutêtre s'achève
Un songe noir qui trop longtemps dura,
Que ton regard comme un astre se lève...
Soudain mon rêve
Rayonnera!

Puis sur ma lèvre où voltige une flamme,
Éclair d'amour que Dieu même épura,
Pose un baiser, et d'ange deviens femme...
Soudain mon âme
S'éveillera!



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Pagan Poetry 4 : James - Ring the bells

Ring the bells
Ring ring the bells
Wake the town
Everyone is sleeping
Shout at the crowd
Wake them up
This angers deeper than sleep

Got to keep awake to what is happening
I cant see a thing through my ambition,
I no longer feel my God is watching over me
Got to tell the world weve all been dreaming
This is not the end, a new beginning
I no longer feel my God is watching over me

Break break the code
Concentrate
Let the doors swing open
See through all your walls
All your floors
Now youre in deeper than sleep

Got to keep awake to what is happening
I cant see a thing through my ambition,
I no longer feel my God is watching over me
Got to tell the world weve all been dreaming
This is not the end, a new beginning
I no longer feel my God is watching over me

When you let me fall
Grew my own wings
Now Im as tall as the sky
When you let me drown
Grew gills and fins
Now Im as deep as the sea
When you let me die
My spirits free
Theres nothing challenging me




Because rock IS poetry.

Pagan Poetry 3 : Licht und Liebe

One major opera star of the 70's and the 80's, with a voice still considered as an abnormality is the incomparable Edda Moser.
Combining a real talent in acting and a striking voice of power and great extent, she graved in stones roles as Die Königin der Nacht, and other mozart heroins.
Since we're living in a state of blues recently we dug up this lovely Lied written by gay Schubert and sung by Hermann Prey and Edda.




ENGLISH TRANSLATION (by Kathy Wolfe):
Love is a sweet light
As the Earth yearns for the sun
And for each bright star
In the wide blue faraway
So yearns the heart for the joy of Love
For it is a sweet light.

See how high, in silent celebration
Far over there, bright stars sparkle!
From the earth they flee, [from] that dark
Confusion-filled, troubled veil.
Woe is me, how troubled
I feel, deep in my soul,
Which in joy once bloomed;
Now made desolate, without Love.

Love is a sweet light
As the Earth yearns for the sun
And for each bright star
In the wide blue faraway
So yearns the heart for the joy of Love:
Love is a sweet light.

GERMAN LYRICS:
Liebe ist ein süßes Licht.
Wie die Erde strebt zur Sonne
Und zu jenen hellen Sternen
In den weiten blauen Fernen,
Strebt das Herz nach Liebeswonne;
Denn sie ist ein süßes Licht.

Sieh, wie hoch in stiller Feier
Droben helle Sterne funkeln:
Von der Erde fliehn die dunkeln,
Schwermutsvollen trüben Schleier.
Wehe mir, wie so trübe
Fühl' ich tief mich im Gemüte,
Das in Freuden sonst erblüte,
Nun vereinsamt, ohne Liebe.

Liebe ist ein süßes Licht.
Wie die Erde strebt zur Sonne
Und zu jenen hellen Sternen
In den weiten blauen Fernen,
Strebt das Herz nach Liebeswonne:
Liebe ist ein süßes Licht.

Pagan Poetry 2 : In the Sreets

If there's one thing that keeps surprising me is how deprived of poetry we can be. Every day, everywhere : work, bed, radio, tv, news, books, entertainment. Everything is made so you will not realize that there's such a thing as beauty in the most simple situations.

Whether you want it or not, whether you notice it or not, there's always just a single moment where you'll stop and wonder at something that doesn't have any meaning but for you.

I have this book where it's written that reading poetry for 20 minutes everyday would deeply change and free anyone. I don't know if that's true. Im' quite scared to do it.

I was walking down the street the other day and suddenly i noticed that some black tags on the sidewalk. Someone had tagged in huge black letters a love poem. It was the most revolutionnary act I had ever witnessed.

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Pagan Poetry 1 : Renascence

ALL I could see from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood;
I turned and looked the other way,
And saw three islands in a bay.
So with my eyes I traced the line	5
Of the horizon, thin and fine,
Straight around till I was come
Back to where I’d started from;
And all I saw from where I stood
Was three long mountains and a wood.	10
Over these things I could not see:
These were the things that bounded me;
And I could touch them with my hand,
Almost, I thought, from where I stand.
And all at once things seemed so small	15
My breath came short, and scarce at all.
But, sure, the sky is big, I said;
Miles and miles above my head;
So here upon my back I’ll lie
And look my fill into the sky.	20
And so I looked, and, after all,
The sky was not so very tall.
The sky, I said, must somewhere stop,
And—sure enough!—I see the top!
The sky, I thought, is not so grand;	25
I ’most could touch it with my hand!
And reaching up my hand to try,
I screamed to feel it touch the sky.
I screamed, and—lo!—Infinity
Came down and settled over me;	30
Forced back my scream into my chest,
Bent back my arm upon my breast,
And, pressing of the Undefined
The definition on my mind,
Held up before my eyes a glass	35
Through which my shrinking sight did pass
Until it seemed I must behold
Immensity made manifold;
Whispered to me a word whose sound
Deafened the air for worlds around,	40
And brought unmuffled to my ears
The gossiping of friendly spheres,
The creaking of the tented sky,
The ticking of Eternity.
I saw and heard and knew at last	45
The How and Why of all things, past,
And present, and forevermore.
The Universe, cleft to the core,
Lay open to my probing sense
That, sick’ning, I would fain pluck thence	50
But could not,—nay! But needs must suck
At the great wound, and could not pluck
My lips away till I had drawn
All venom out.—Ah, fearful pawn!
For my omniscience paid I toll	55
In infinite remorse of soul.
All sin was of my sinning, all
Atoning mine, and mine the gall
Of all regret. Mine was the weight
Of every brooded wrong, the hate	60
That stood behind each envious thrust,
Mine every greed, mine every lust.
And all the while for every grief,
Each suffering, I craved relief
With individual desire,—	65
Craved all in vain! And felt fierce fire
About a thousand people crawl;
Perished with each,—then mourned for all!
A man was starving in Capri;
He moved his eyes and looked at me;	70
I felt his gaze, I heard his moan,
And knew his hunger as my own.
I saw at sea a great fog bank
Between two ships that struck and sank;
A thousand screams the heavens smote;	75
And every scream tore through my throat.
No hurt I did not feel, no death
That was not mine; mine each last breath
That, crying, met an answering cry
From the compassion that was I.	80
All suffering mine, and mine its rod;
Mine, pity like the pity of God.
Ah, awful weight! Infinity
Pressed down upon the finite Me!
My anguished spirit, like a bird,	85
Beating against my lips I heard;
Yet lay the weight so close about
There was no room for it without.
And so beneath the weight lay I
And suffered death, but could not die.	90
Long had I lain thus, craving death,
When quietly the earth beneath
Gave way, and inch by inch, so great
At last had grown the crushing weight,
Into the earth I sank till I	95
Full six feet under ground did lie,
And sank no more,—there is no weight
Can follow here, however great.
From off my breast I felt it roll,
And as it went my tortured soul	100
Burst forth and fled in such a gust
That all about me swirled the dust.
Deep in the earth I rested now;
Cool is its hand upon the brow
And soft its breast beneath the head	105
Of one who is so gladly dead.
And all at once, and over all
The pitying rain began to fall;
I lay and heard each pattering hoof
Upon my lowly, thatchèd roof,	110
And seemed to love the sound far more
Than ever I had done before.
For rain it hath a friendly sound
To one who’s six feet under ground;
And scarce the friendly voice or face:	115
A grave is such a quiet place.
The rain, I said, is kind to come
And speak to me in my new home.
I would I were alive again
To kiss the fingers of the rain,	120
To drink into my eyes the shine
Of every slanting silver line,
To catch the freshened, fragrant breeze
From drenched and dripping apple-trees.
For soon the shower will be done,	125
And then the broad face of the sun
Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth
Until the world with answering mirth
Shakes joyously, and each round drop
Rolls, twinkling, from its grass-blade top.	130
How can I bear it; buried here,
While overhead the sky grows clear
And blue again after the storm?
O, multi-colored, multiform,
Beloved beauty over me,	135
That I shall never, never see
Again! Spring-silver, autumn-gold,
That I shall never more behold!
Sleeping your myriad magics through,
Close-sepulchred away from you!	140
O God, I cried, give me new birth,
And put me back upon the earth!
Upset each cloud’s gigantic gourd
And let the heavy rain, down-poured
In one big torrent, set me free,	145
Washing my grave away from me!
I ceased; and through the breathless hush
That answered me, the far-off rush
Of herald wings came whispering
Like music down the vibrant string	150
Of my ascending prayer, and—crash!
Before the wild wind’s whistling lash
The startled storm-clouds reared on high
And plunged in terror down the sky,
And the big rain in one black wave	155
Fell from the sky and struck my grave.
I know not how such things can be;
I only know there came to me
A fragrance such as never clings
To aught save happy living things;	160
A sound as of some joyous elf
Singing sweet songs to please himself,
And, through and over everything,
A sense of glad awakening.
The grass, a-tiptoe at my ear,	165
Whispering to me I could hear;
I felt the rain’s cool finger-tips
Brushed tenderly across my lips,
Laid gently on my sealèd sight,
And all at once the heavy night	170
Fell from my eyes and I could see,—
A drenched and dripping apple-tree,
A last long line of silver rain,
A sky grown clear and blue again.
And as I looked a quickening gust	175
Of wind blew up to me and thrust
Into my face a miracle
Of orchard-breath, and with the smell,—
I know not how such things can be!—
I breathed my soul back into me.	180
Ah! Up then from the ground sprang I
And hailed the earth with such a cry
As is not heard save from a man
Who has been dead, and lives again.
About the trees my arms I wound;	185
Like one gone mad I hugged the ground;
I raised my quivering arms on high;
I laughed and laughed into the sky,
Till at my throat a strangling sob
Caught fiercely, and a great heart-throb	190
Sent instant tears into my eyes;
O God, I cried, no dark disguise
Can e’er hereafter hide from me
Thy radiant identity!
Thou canst not move across the grass	195
But my quick eyes will see Thee pass,
Nor speak, however silently,
But my hushed voice will answer Thee.
I know the path that tells Thy way
Through the cool eve of every day;	200
God, I can push the grass apart
And lay my finger on Thy heart!
The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,—	205
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through.	210
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat—the sky
Will cave in on him by and by.