Sunday, December 18, 2011

No matter how thin and flimsy / On Samuel Beckett




NO MATTER HOW THIN AND FLIMSY

for Jonathan Jones

Sometimes a single phrase or a word, the whorl of a letter, a word grain, an image. A single moment in language, a single moment, the apprehension of something ‘true.’ Real in a rhizomatic way. Like suddenly seeing a single molecule of something. A thing no matter how thin and flimsy. Humans made out of these thin and flimsy things. Human thought.

When something ‘speaks’ to us, it is a fragment. A quick flash of something. A single leaf in a forest of otherwhere. Or everyhere. A consolation. An encouragement. A confirmation.

Imagination, memory, experience, compassion. The human. Rhizomes. 


*
BECKETT

between the snowflakes
Samuel Beckett

space for a whole forest
of Becketts

*

Samuel Beckett
falls from above

with an open mouth
fills with sky

*
a Samuel Beckett
that has no face

is filled with sky
a body’s worth

*

a Samuel Beckett
with a thousand fingers

feathers reaching to the sun
begin at the beginning and stay there

*

what does it mean to be Samuel Beckett
when you are a bird

a thousand Samuel Becketts in a swarm
a transforming liquid of solid flight

3 comments:

sandra said...

so long, so long
looking for something buried

when it was there
all the time

just small

Eccentric Scholar said...

I love your line, "When something ‘speaks’ to us, it is a fragment."

Pearl said...

fragmeant

thought you'd like this: http://inspire.2ia.pl/post/14721389160/dishes-by-jean-francois-de-witte