"I GO THE DISTANCE

Here in this area
Where speed and time intersect each other
I see a single line of distance,
Crooked in whitish colour.

I go round repeatedly circling
The distance, embracing myself in it,
Located neither in a distant place
Nor in the near place as seems to be.

As numberless steps preceded
Far in the front,
As if not knowing the distance of terminals,
I also go and am ceaselessly going,
Entrusting those numberless steps,
That will follow me,
With the entangled steps of mine,
As if they were my will.
While the stars set down and the dawn breaks
I go with the wind blowing.

The distance wriggles in my bosom
As if it were a rope.
My rusted breast,
Leaning against the wriggling distance,
Goes round repeatedly circling.

If the speed is tired,
Painful steps are also drawn up,
And the steps drawn up make distance;
At last over my bosom without sound
The distance, as it does,
Goes not quickly or not slowly,
Goes repeatedly and go circling.

The single of whitish distance,
The one where I can not return though wished,
The one where I have to go though not wished,
Go I circling.
Embracing myself
I go repeatedly."

Mu-hag Han

Unrhymed songs*, from "Judy Blue Eyes Suite" (is that it? by Crosby
Stills Nash) to Sinéad O'Connor & Ani Difranco... I think it would really
benefit songwriters if they just gave up on rhyming for awhile unless
they're actually accomplished formal poets. Beter still, a moratorium
on lyrics altogether.

I remember when my friend Melissa H---- told me she was laying off the
Beat thing & going to try Cowboy Poetry for awhile. Of course i looked at her like she was nuts, but is it all that terrible to want to join a
thriving movement with plenty of enthusiastic readers? They have big get
togethers every year out West (Nevada?); & if serious critics ignore them
completely, so much the better. Me, i will always boost Robert Service
(a dead poet that people still ask for at my bookstore--& not for school); though
i think in a way he was the last real Cowboy Poet & everyone today is sort
of PoMo- or Neo-... But what is there to keep a genuine talent from arising
in such a milieu?

"I understand completely. The rage isn't easy to control. But sometimes the rage is overtaken by the fear. Not the fear of terrorists -- the fear of my government and of my fellow Americans. The fear of people who believe the world is 6,000 years old and believe that Satan is a real being that is loose on this earth. The fear of people, and a country, that have become delusional and have the power to do great harm. The fear of people that believe their own lies. The fear of people who see all who are not like them as evil and who must be destroyed. For I am not like them, not like them at all. I represent their worst nightmares. I do not believe in their god, I do not follow their hive mind, I do not swallow their lies. Worst of all -- I think for myself.

Why do I keep doing this blog? Why do I keep bringing back reports of the destruction of things that I hold so dear? Why do I feel like I am watching the largest wreck I have ever seen and I can't stop looking? I guess there is part of me that just has to know. I guess that, if you like history, watching the biggest history in your lifetime makes it real hard to tear your gaze away. I guess that I want to know when it will no longer be safe for me to remain in the country of my birth.

Is there hope? I honestly don't know. The fear, hatred, and utter ignorance of the world that these people have is a disease that is spreading and I don't think that it is curable. Can they be contained? I fear that it may be too late. It's not just a matter of defeating Bush. It's so much deeper than that. It's a mass hysteria and it seems to be inpenetrable by truth or reason or caring or love or forgiveness.

The only way I can keep some sanity in my blogging is to contrast this destruction with acts of creativity. By inserting examples of the things that are created by people who are passionate about the world around and within, who are open to the wonders that this world offers. I keep my sanity by bringing back things by people who have a fucking clue as to what a metaphor is. I bring back things by people who want to live and want their children, their children's children, and all those that follow to be able to live and discover all that is beautiful and wonderful because there will still be beautiful and wonderful things left to discover." --Gordon Coale, in answer to Why
I Stopped Blogging (via Wood_s Lot)

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(*Addendum. The Roches, The Smiths...)