Spoiler

koliko volim Bekmana i njegove konture

 

 

Hessie
Microscopiques (‘Microscopics’), 1969/1970
Embroidery in yellow, orange, red, green and violet, on cotton canvas
47 × 63 cm

 

 

 

9: You are unlimited and unfathomable

 

As they scribbled with the friend about scars

Of the horizon, more and more was said

Than known and vice-versa; words like stars

 

Cut themselves from void, burning to be read

By a few disjointed no ones who feel

That everything alive is beyond dead

 

And more than any mind may observe, real.

To die in secret is the life, unheard

Outside boundless silence who feels the deal

 

In all directions since the first sigh stirred

Your waters of sleep the way it pleases

To be what things are really like, absurd

 

Or flooded with form that never freezes

Swallowing all on the way to nowhere. 

Now one more reason to love the breezes

 

That breathe upon the temples of your hair

Whose priestesses sweeter than the honey

Dropping unseen on their own heart-tongues’ prayer 

 

Sway as lions to drive off the money

Changers, thieves of blood who have no business

Near the pure pulse of something so funny. 

 

No one will ever stop laughing at this

Which nor can be indicated as that—

A wild abyss of mountains of such bliss

 

As is hardly felt living on the flats

Or in cities dense with desire’s pain,

Only closer to the sea habitats

 

Of Andean stones singing in the rain.

What I mean is that the entire world

Of everything (all) is totally vain

 

Or simply the shadow of a dance whirled

Of itself by God hanging round your neck

In cords out of life-creating cuts twirled

 

Down to the diameter of a speck

Whose color dots the pupil of image.

If at some moment on this mountain trek

 

All strength stumbles before the vast mirage

And the bubble of breath drowns in the blur,

Do not think that you are not the mad mage

 

Whose spell is causing all stuff to occur

Or that somehow anyone arrives here

Else than from here, the future where we were.

 

O bewildering whisper of the ear

Speaking all truth in a spiral of spots

Still-staying faster than the speed I hear

 

Passing time by through a series of knots

Each nested in the other yet somehow

Shortcutting the circuit of endless thoughts

 

How on earth to face whatever you are?

Edited May 23, 20222 yr by Hermetico

 

Steve McQueen and his wife, Neile Adams, firing pistols in the Palm Springs desert

 

ozbiljno u neozbiljnom (ili obrnuto, kogabriga:)

https://fb.watch/dkyFQ6U54G/

 

 

 

i jos jedan od Figena

 

 

 

 

12-year-old budding actor, Christopher Walken, making pie crust in his father's bakery