Posts Tagged ‘robert bly’

Quote of the day: THINK

November 16, 2017

THINK

Think in ways you’ve never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you’ve ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he’s carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you’ve never seen.

When someone knocks on the door, think that he’s about
To give you something large: tell you you’re forgiven,
Or that it’s not necessary to work all the time, or that it’s
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.

–Robert Bly, “Things to Think”

Quote of the day: UNIQUE

October 20, 2017

UNIQUE

So much time has gone by! Napoleon’s house—
He never came—still stands in the Quarter.
Time ends all the good living that
Louis the Sixteenth, after the trouble, never
Experienced, all the sights Andrew
Jackson never saw in Pirate’s Alley.
Ask the alligators about heat and history.

Out in the bayous we met a small alligator
Named Elvis. When we stroked his throat, he waved
His left claw at the world. It makes you think.
Alligators enjoy a world before the alphabet.

I don’t want to be who you are! I want
To be myself, someone playing with language.
Let us each be a sensualist
Of the imponderable! Let’s each do
What we want. I thread my way
Down alphabets to the place where Elvis is.

–Robert Bly, “The Day We Visited New Orleans”

Quote of the day: RUIN

August 23, 2014

RUIN

“The Cabbages of Chekhov”

Some gamblers abandon carefully built houses
In order to live near water. It’s all right. One day
On the river is worth a thousand nights on land.

It is our attraction to ruin that saves us;
And disaster, friends, brings us health. Chekhov
Shocks the heavens with his dark cabbages.

William Blake knew that fierce old man,
Irritable, chained and majestic, who bends over
To measure with his calipers the ruin of the world.

It takes so little to make me happy tonight!
Four hours of singing will do it, if we remember
How much of our life is a ruin, and agree to that.

Butterflies spend all afternoon concentrating
On the buddleia bush; human beings take in
The fragrance of a thousand nights of ruin.

We planted fields of sorrow near the Tigris.
The Harvesters will come in at the end of time
And tell us that the crop of ruin has been great.

–Robert Bly

chekhov bly

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