Category: Lit & Crit

They know what’s importantThey know what’s important

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 4:10 am

“The expectation that cats can be made to change their nature, like wayward teens in a Scared Straight course, is a new development in feline-human relations.  Humans bred dogs to be loyal and companionate; cats domesticated themselves.  Biologists call them ‘commensal domesticates,’ meaning that they can live with humans, and yet, unlike most other domesticated species, they can revert at any time to feral status.  What you glean from the general feline vibe is evolutionary truth: cats can take us or leave us.” — Ariel Levy, “Living-Room Leopards”

Light readingLight reading

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 4:20 am

“In the search for words, thesauruses are useful things, but they don’t talk about the words they list.  They are also dangerous.  They can lead you to choose a polysyllabic and fuzzy word when a simple and clear one is better.  The value of a thesaurus is not to make a writer seem to have a vast vocabulary of recondite words.  The value of a thesaurus is in the assistance it can give you in finding the best possible word for the mission that the word is supposed to fulfill.  Writing teachers and journalism courses have been known to compare them to crutches and to imply that no writer of any character or competence would use them.  At best, thesauruses are mere rest stops in the search for the mot juste.  Your destination is the dictionary.” – John McPhee, “Draft No. 4″

E.E. CummingsE.E. Cummings

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 4:08 am

now does our world descend
the path to nothingness
(cruel now cancels kind;
friends turn to enemies)
therefore lament,my dream
and don a doer’s doom

create is now contrive;
imagined,merely know
(freedom:what makes a slave)
therefore,my life,lie down
and more by most endure
all that you never were

hide,poor dishonoured mind
who thought yourself so wise;
and much could understand
concerning no and yes:
if they’ve become the same
it’s time you unbecame

where climbing was and bright
is darkness and to fall
(now wrong’s the only right
since brave are cowards all)
therefore despair,my heart
and die into the dirt

but from this endless end
of briefer each our bliss–
where seeping eyes go blind
(where lips forget to kiss)
where everything’s nothing
–arise,my soul;and sing.

– E.E. Cummings, “62” from 73 Poems (punctuation and spacing as in original)

E.E. CummingsE.E. Cummings

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 5:31 am

annie died the other day

never was there such a lay—
whom,among her dollies,dad
first(“don’t tell your mother”)had;
making annie slightly mad
but very wonderful in bed
—saints and satyrs,go your way

youths and maidens:let us pray”

– E.E. Cummings, “22” from 73 Poems (punctuation and spacing as in original)

E.E. CummingsE.E. Cummings

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 5:19 am

dive for dreams
or a slogan may topple you
(trees are their roots
and wind is wind)

trust your heart
if the seas catch fire
(and live by love
though the stars walk backward)

honour the past
but welcome the future
(and dance your death
away at this wedding)

never mind a world
with its villains or heroes
(for god likes girls
and tomorrow and the earth)

– E.E. Cummings, “60” from 95 Poems

E.E. CummingsE.E. Cummings

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 4:45 am

what Got him was Noth

ing & nothing’s exAct
ly what any
one Living(or some
body Dead
like
even a Poet)could
hardly express what
i Mean is
what knocked him over Wasn’t
(for instance)the Knowing your

whole(yes god

damned)life is a Flop or even
to Feel how
Everything(dreamed
& hoped &
prayed for
months & weeks & days & years
& nights &
forever)is Less Than
Nothing(which would have been

Something)what got him was nothing

– E.E. Cummings, “30” from 95 Poems (punctuation and spacing as in original)

E.E. CummingsE.E. Cummings

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 5:35 am

life is more true than reason will deceive
(more secret or than madness did reveal)
deeper is life than lose:higher than have
—but beauty is more each than living’s all

multiplied with infinity sans iff
the mightiest meditations of mankind
cancelled are by one merely opening leaf
(beyond whose nearness there is no beyond)

or does some littler bird than eyes can learn
look up to silence and completely sing?
futures are obsolete;pasts are unborn
(here less than nothing’s more than everything)

death,as men call him,ends what they call men
—but beauty is more now than dying’s when

– E.E. Cummings, “LII” from 1 X 1 (punctuation and spacing as in original)

And we worry about the NSAAnd we worry about the NSA

Tetman Callis 2 Comments 4:34 am

“When I set myself the task of bringing to light what human beings keep hidden within them, not by the compelling power of hypnosis, but by observing what they say and what they show, I thought the task was a harder one than it really is. He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his finger-tips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.” – Sigmund Freud, “Fragment of an Analysis of a Case of Hysteria (‘Dora’)” (ed. Gay)

Making locomotive rosesMaking locomotive roses

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 7:06 am

“If a poet is anybody,he is somebody to whom things matter very little—somebody who is obsessed by Making.     Like all obsessions,the Making obsession has disadvantages;for instance,my only interest in making money would be to make it.     Fortunately,however,I should prefer to make almost anything else,including locomotives and roses.     It is with roses and locomotives(not to mention acrobats Spring electricity Coney Island the 4th of July the eyes of mice and Niagra Falls)that my ‘poems’ are competing.” – E.E. Cummings, is 5 (punctuation and spacing as in original)

In a wifely wayIn a wifely way

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 3:40 am

“My wife had opened a bottle of liqueur, on which the word ‘Ananas’ appeared and which was a gift from our friend Otto: for he has a habit of making presents on every possible occasion.  It has to be hoped, I thought to myself, that some day he would find a wife to cure him of the habit.  This liqueur gave off such a strong smell of fusel oil that I refused to touch it.  My wife suggested our giving the bottle to the servants, but I—with even greater prudence—vetoed the suggestion, adding in a philanthropic spirit that there was no need for them to be poisoned either.” – Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams (emphasis in original; ed. Gay)

Oh, it’s him againOh, it’s him again

Tetman Callis 3 Comments 3:46 am

“Satan has one pure pleasure: waiting until you have forgotten him, moved on with your life, feeling, if not a certain variety of cheerfulness, precisely, then at least the deficiency of immediate despair, and stepping up beside you on the street, nestling up behind you in your bed, to remind you in his hissy whisper of just who and what you are not.” — Lance Olsen, Calendar of Regrets

No tweezers to draw it outNo tweezers to draw it out

Tetman Callis 0 Comments 4:34 am

“Imagine for a moment, just a moment, that the reason the earth-ball is swarmy with transgression lies not in the fact that Man has foundered, failed, fallen, but that he has never risen, flourished, revised his basic constitution in the slightest, has always been, in a word, exactly what he is now: sin lodged in skin.” – Lance Olsen, Calendar of Regrets