A time will come when you realize how stupid you are," she said.
Sorry, that time has already come and gone.
]
]
...[
[break]
[
[...]
me.
~~~
The light swerves, reverses. The moon is high, pale blue in its pale blue sky, late in the afternoon, or the fag end of the morning. The moon's time has come and gone, and is all the more fragile for it, lacking any substantiality of its own, on the edge, always borrowing light from others: "hey, excuse me, have you got a light?..."could you spare a dime?"
The light swings, reverses. March is like October, at equal distance from the small turning point. Invisible birds chirp in their high trees, confused by the light which is of the wrong intensity for this time of the day.
Two people can exist at the same time but really be from two different time periods. Something of their lives overlaps...one steps into the circle of the other and sees himself more clearly.In a time to come there will be no circles, only a point.
The same fundamental human gestures survive after all this time. There are minor modifications and cultural variations but what was once human always remains so.
The light swerves, reverses. Arrangements are made; you re-adjust your clothes, brush your hair, make yourself presentable. The money is on the table. Money doesn't matter. You've kept a small five pence piece (not quite a dime) in your pocket to remind you of the future time. How we humans invest meaning in the smallest of things! This line from Holub, from memory: a human being, crouched near a sofa, trying to retrieve with a spoon a pea which he will never eat.
The small weight, the imbalance in your life, the thin margins of chance in which things are decided.
~~~
little r heard the call of the muezzin. "Is that God speaking?"
No, I replied. Quite the opposite. It's a maulvi.
"What is he saying, then?"
He is asking people to come and pray.
"But I've never seen you pray"
I pray in my heart. You can't always see everything that exists.
Sorry, that time has already come and gone.
]
]
...[
[break]
[
[...]
me.
~~~
The light swerves, reverses. The moon is high, pale blue in its pale blue sky, late in the afternoon, or the fag end of the morning. The moon's time has come and gone, and is all the more fragile for it, lacking any substantiality of its own, on the edge, always borrowing light from others: "hey, excuse me, have you got a light?..."could you spare a dime?"
The light swings, reverses. March is like October, at equal distance from the small turning point. Invisible birds chirp in their high trees, confused by the light which is of the wrong intensity for this time of the day.
Two people can exist at the same time but really be from two different time periods. Something of their lives overlaps...one steps into the circle of the other and sees himself more clearly.In a time to come there will be no circles, only a point.
The same fundamental human gestures survive after all this time. There are minor modifications and cultural variations but what was once human always remains so.
The light swerves, reverses. Arrangements are made; you re-adjust your clothes, brush your hair, make yourself presentable. The money is on the table. Money doesn't matter. You've kept a small five pence piece (not quite a dime) in your pocket to remind you of the future time. How we humans invest meaning in the smallest of things! This line from Holub, from memory: a human being, crouched near a sofa, trying to retrieve with a spoon a pea which he will never eat.
The small weight, the imbalance in your life, the thin margins of chance in which things are decided.
~~~
little r heard the call of the muezzin. "Is that God speaking?"
No, I replied. Quite the opposite. It's a maulvi.
"What is he saying, then?"
He is asking people to come and pray.
"But I've never seen you pray"
I pray in my heart. You can't always see everything that exists.
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