of all the hearts i've held inside this cage
this one is by far the fiercest. it wants love
to conquer death, and will settle for nothing
less, will do anything to get what it desires.
you can move closer, you will be safe.
to you it will seem a beehive and a gate.
and you will not have to do the work -
harvest the honey, pound at the gate;
honey will pour forth like a flood, and the gate
will pound like a fist to get you to enter.
poem by Andreas at Untitled
a poem which i stumbled upon when i most needed it, and which has accompanied me into this year, setting the tone for it, as it were...
ReplyDeletei've wanted to post it for a long time, i've had the first photo but i thought i needed more - and then a summer afternoon, recently (it is winter in the first photo) made me the fitting gift for it (or so i believe!) - it was pouring rain, but i was thinking honey :-)
Strange. I recognize this gate, or this grille. The poem is translated?
ReplyDeletei don't think so, but maybe the author is swede.
Deletehi my beautiful friend,very profound photos or rather they lead to profound thinking.
ReplyDeleteFor me it leads to remembering childhood events. The gate reminds me of the gate at my grandmother and grandfather's house where I spent my earliest years and there was a considerable amount of foliage by the gate.a lilac tree still intoxicating for me now and ringing blue bells and pansies that I would have conversation with in the early dew covered mornings where the dewjewels also seemed like raindrops left by the fairies.and the feircest love really when I think back to this was the love of myself through which all of life would be accepted or rejected loved or hated and the cultivation of the laudanum of life,an extension.
have a beautiful day
floral kisses.
maybe a gate has always something to do with our past, Madeleine, as a threshold to memories - though for other people, with different sensitivities, it could also be a threshold to the future? that is why i liked the play between these photos and the poem here, as it is also a tension, i feel, between memory and desire, a new time to come...
Deletethank you for sharing these flower images from your childhood with us here :-) lilac kisses, then!
the first image is hunting and the poem does, indeed, do justice to the image.
ReplyDeletewonderful.
i thought so too, and then the change to the green abundance in the last photo seemed to me to be the fulfilled promise of the poem.
Deletethe poem is the too much
ReplyDeletethe photos are the acute little (jack gilbert)
between them both, a rush of life))))
xo
erin
you captured, in your words, the precise tension i was looking for here, in this difficult balance between the two - if i managed to achieve that, and you felt it, then i am happy with this post.
Delete~~~
ohhhh I love the tone of the pictures you posted with this poem.
ReplyDelete:-)
Deletethank you!!!
Words and pictures are warring factions. They can be made to sit quietly on a divan, but they are endless schemers and, truth be told, detest one another. And the fantastic expressionism of these images (i won’t bore you, dearest, with the German expressionism found in, say, The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, as I know that German studies are not your forte) easily, in my opinion (usually an infallible matter), trumps the beauty the words (two ephemeral giants battling it out).
ReplyDeleteyes, it is always a difficult battle to win when one tries to match words and images - sometimes they should echo themselves, in gentleness, sometimes contradict themselves and play one against the other, in never resolved tension. and i don't think one can ever achieve a result which can please everybody (but that's the beauty of it :-)
Delete(and it all becomes all the more difficult in film, damn! :-)
a soul-stirring expression of longing and desire
ReplyDeletein wondrous images and words both - delight!
exactly, that is how i felt as well! :-)
Deletethank you, dear Tanja...
nimic nu este mai clar decat acea poarta deschisa ,decat acel verde-si totusi,nu voi afla niciodata miscarea mainii ei,cine a deschis poarta si daca-sau ea era astfel in vise,si,dincolo de asta,este doar aceasta betie a verdelui proaspat.
ReplyDelete