firefrost
Edited my list.
EnriqueEnriquez said:dear all,
I just want to amplify on what I was saying about the convenience of reading poetry. Consider this poem from Miklós Radnóti:
Postcard
4
I fell next to him. His body rolled over.
It was tight as a string before it snaps.
Shot in the back of the head-"this is how
you'll end". "Just lie quietly," I said to myself.
Patience flowers into death now.
"Der spring noch auf," I heard above me.
Dark filthy blood was drying on my ear.
Szentskirályszabdja, October 31, 1944
"Der spring noch auf" means something like “to pop open” and comes from a verb that describes flowers blossoming. A bullet making a brain blossoming from a head is a powerful image that take us back to looking at the pips. Each card is a pistol’s shot waiting to be turned into a blossoming. That is our job, turning pips into messages, bullets into blossoms.
(BTW The only reason why you and I can read that poem is because Radnóti’s wife had her husband’s body exhumed from the mass grave where he was thrown on November 1944. The poem was on a notepad the corpse had in his pocket.)
Best,
EE
Satori said:I just fixed my first page of words, from page one of the thread.
EE said:“A person comes to us because they have lost their words. They will never say it like that, but that is basically it. They have forgotten how to talk about a problem, or about themselves. Perhaps they simply haven't yet found the right words to talk about their future. We may have forgotten their future and need a few cue words to remember it. We give them our cards so they can use them to tell us their story, and we look at these cards to find some words we can give back to them.”
mosaica said:Sorry, KK, I can't get to mine. Daughter's birthday, parties, company coming.... It's been a busy few days. I'll try to get to it tomorrow? Feel free to go ahead and do the list without me.