|My Photos:My Garden, Royal Ontario Museum, Lao Watt Temple, Sonnenberg Estate
|Genesis & Evolution of A Blog/Blogger
|AMAZED by Gordon Coombes
|My POETRY 'As If...'
|Two Poems For Charles ( Hank ) Bukowski - Here's To Charles Bukowski - & Poems For Sale
|Earthbound angel #5 Sensuous Angel or the Rose Of Sharon
|For Walt Whitman
|PHONY PROPHETS & Visions Of THE ANCIENT SAGE
|Homage to H.P. Lovecraft
|MY POETRY:NIGHT OF A THOUSAND HOURS
|Inside The Jumble Jar : Sharing Our Dreams & Soundings
|Being a Child of Raging Fire in the Shadow of Towering Smokestacks
|POEM FOR ROBERT BURNS : BLOOD FEUD
|My Poetry: Two Variations on Hope And Tragedy
|LAO TSU, CRIMSON LOTUS BLOSSOMS ,The Blank Slate and AS THE FOG ROLLS IN
|Listen To This...No. 1 & No. 2
|REQUIEM : AN EPIC FOR OUR TIME:
|Visions of the Subterranean in the Run-down Rooming-house of the Soul
|Tales From Café Apollinaire: Variations on Distilled Dreams
|Poetry: Dharma Bumming/ More Of The Dharma/ Buddha And The Blue Horses/Waiting in The Snow
|Aphorisms & Haiku II : Stonefish & Tigerlilies
|WISDOM IN A CLUBHOUSE SANDWICH
|Night Visions & Barbed-Wire Encircled World
|No End to Beginnings & Endings
|Ah F... Art...
|Inspiring Quotes Victor Hugo, Jean Paul Sartre. Edvard Munch
|FILM : Zhang Yimou's " HERO " & " RAN" BY AKIRA KUROSAWA
& SERGIO LEONE & CLINT EASWOOD
|Film "GLORY" (1989) & ROBERT LOWELL " FOR THE UNION DEAD "& "SKUNK HOUR"
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|BEAT POETRY & PROSE- JACK KEROUAC,BURROUGHS, BUKOWSKI
|ART:POST-IMPRESSIONISM- Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cezanne, Seurat, Lautrec, Gustav Klimt and Henri Rousseau
|ART: EXPRESSIONISM Edvard Munch, George Grosz,Marc Chagall et al
|LITERATURE: FRANZ KAFKA & SURREALISM
|William Blake Poet & Mystic
|BAUDELAIRE & RUMI
|Chief Seattle :The Web Of Being And The Ghost Dance
|DADA SURREALIST MADNESS OF Andre Breton, Rene Magritte ,Yves Tanguay, MAX ERNST & MARCEL DUCHAMP
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|FILM: FRIDA KAHLO FILM REVIEW
|Art Of Goya & Michael Sowa
|Guillaume Apollinaire, SURREALISM & DADA & HANS (JEAN) ARP & HUGO BALL
|EXCERPTS FROM: THE BANQUET YEARS: Guillaume Apollinaire etc. By Roger Shattuck
|Pablo Neruda - " I'LL Explain Some Things " & " Ode To A Book "
|Federico Garcia Lorca ( 1898 -1936 ): " Lament for Ignacio Sanchez Mejias "
|MUSIC: VICTO JARA - CHILEAN / FOLK /POLITICAL
|POETRY & POLITICS from Robert Burns to Robert Lowell to Ginsberg to Ty Gray EL
|Poetry: W. B.Yeats, Pablo Neruda , Dylan Thomas ,
|ROBERT BURNS " A MAN's A MAN FOR A' THAT " " SUCH A PARCEL OF ROGUES " & "Scots, wha hae.
|ART: JOSEPH CUSINAMO VIVID SURREALISM ZAZIE
|ART: SURREALISM, RENE MAGRITTE, CHAGALL,MAX ERNST & DALI
|SURREALISM : COMTE LAUTREMONT: SONGS OF MALADOR
|SURREALISM: ANDRE BRETON ON DADA & SURREALISM
|ART & FILM ANIMATION : RYAN LARKIN
|ART: DADA & WAR
|MUSIC & POETRY :" ODE TO JOY " Friedrich Schiller's Poem
|Films Surreal " V " For Vendetta & David Lynch, John Waters,Terry Gilliam ,Luis Bunuel,COSTAS GAVRAS
|FILMs: Guilty pleasures Horror with a twist:Killer Klowns DAGON & Reanimator, Society & Brian Yuzna
|Film Reviews:John Carpenter THEY LIVE Cronenberg's Videodrome- PARANOIA, CONSPIRACY,Satire
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|JACQUES BREL -La Mer- lyrics Sons of , the Middle Class, If We Only Have Love , Next, Amsterdam
|MUSIC : JAZZ
|Film: IMMORTEL (AD VITAM) SURREALISTIC FILM
|Film: WIM WENDERS' "WINGS OF DESIRE"
|Film Review: Pulse/ KAIRO Kiyoshi Kurosawa
|"HOUSE OF FLYING DAGGERS" FILM REVIEW
|Film: CEMETERY MAN AKA DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE
|Film : INGMAR BERGMAN ON DEATH , DREAMS, & DELUSIONS
|Films : Johnny Depp
|Film: DRACULA THE SHADOW OF THE VAMPIRE
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So her's a couple of pieces by William Blake. But first here's a comment on Blake by Kenneth Rexroth which helps to sum
up the Enigma Blake has become.
Kenneth Rexroth on Blake William Blake , Poems
Blake knew that his age was faced with a major crisis or climacteric of the interior life. He could diagnose the
early symptoms of the world ill because he saw them as signs that man was being deprived of literally half his being. His
Prophetic Books may be full of cosmological powers derived from the long Gnostic tradition of the emanation and fall of creation,
but he is in fact concerned with the epic tragedy of mankind as it enters an epoch of depersonalization unequaled in history.
It is not surprising that the followers of Carl Jung have been amongst the most revelatory expositors of Blake. He anticipates
most of Jung’s diagnosis and prescription, and shares with him the same archetypal pattern or Olympiad of key symbolic
figures. The reason is not to be found in some mysterious universal oversoul or undersoul. It is simply that human brains
like human bodies are much alike, and men cope with those factors of the mind, or those powers and relationships in life,
that cannot be handled by a quantitative rationalism in much the same way in all times and places, and most especially in
crises of the society or the individual. Blake was not only right about the spiritual, intangible factors, the Guardians of
the Soul, or the testers and judges of the Trials of the Soul in ancient mythologies, that are symbols of the struggles of
the interior life and the achievement of true integration of the personality. He was also right about the external factors
— the evils of the new factory system, of forced pauperism, of wage slavery, of child labor, and of the elevation of
covetousness from the sin of the Tenth Commandment to the Golden Rule of a society founded on the cash nexus.
before the birth of Marx, and before Hegel, he put his finger unerringly on the source of human self-alienation, and he analyzed
its process and consequences in a way not to be matched until the mid-twentieth century.
...It is amusing that the
Age of Reason thought Blake mad, for he is distinguished by an extraordinary sanity in a world in which men like him were
being driven to the wall. No other poet of the main tradition of secession from modern civilization is so lucid or so conscious
of his own logic of purpose
The Tyger by William Blake
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Auguries of Innocence by William Blake To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
dove-house filled with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell through all its regions.
A dog starved at his master's gate
the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
game-cock clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell
a human soul.
The wild deer wandering here and there
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misused breeds
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little
Shall never be beloved by men.
He who the ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by woman loved.
wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower
in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
the Last Judgment draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
dog and widow's cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's
told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so:
Man was made for joy and
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright
And returned to its own delight.
bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Revenge! in realms of death.
The beggar's rags fluttering in air
Does to rags the heavens tear.
armed with sword and gun
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the
gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands,
Or if protected
from on high
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mocked in age and
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light
of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plough
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.
riddle or the cricket's cry
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
weave old England's winding sheet.
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and
God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of
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