All my friends are finding new beliefs.
This one converts to Catholicism and this one to trees.
In a highly literary and hitherto religiously-indifferent Jew
God whomps on like a genetic generator.
Paleo, Keto, Zone, South Beach, Bourbon.
Exercise regimens so extreme she merges with machine.
One man marries a woman twenty years younger
and twice in one brunch uses the word verdant;
another’s brick-fisted belligerence gentles
into dementia, and one, after a decade of finical feints and teases
like a sandpiper at the edge of the sea,
decides to die.
Priesthoods and beasthoods, sombers and glees,
high-styled renunciations and avocations of dirt,
sobrieties, satieties, pilgrimages to the very bowels of being …
All my friends are finding new beliefs
and I am finding it harder and harder to keep track
of the new gods and the new loves,
and the old gods and the old loves,
and the days have daggers, and the mirrors motives,
and the planet’s turning faster and faster in the blackness,
and my nights, and my doubts, and my friends,
my beautiful, credible friends.
—Christian Wiman, Poetry, Janeiro de 2020
Hoje em dia já ninguém lá vai, aquilo está cheio de gente
Artigos da categoria “Livros e Poesia”
Não se tratava do cérebro do homem a falar, mas a sua laringe. O som que lhe saía da boca, compunha-se de palavras, mas não era fala no pleno sentido do termo: apenas um ruído inconscientemente emitido, como o grasnar de um pato.
—George Orwell, 1984, Público 2002 (1949)
Forever – is composed of Nows –
‘Tis not a different time –
Except for Infiniteness –
And Latitude of Home –
From this – experienced Here –
Remove the Dates – to These –
Let Months dissolve in further Months –
And Years – exhale in Years –
Without Debate – or Pause –
Or Celebrated Days –
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Dominies –
—Emily Dickinson (via Poetry Foundation)
— (…) Sabias que a novilíngua é a única língua do mundo cujo vocabulário diminui ano após ano?
—George Orwell, 1984, Público 2002 (1949)
Havia que viver — e vivia-se, graças a um hábito que se fazia instinto — no pressuposto de que cada som emitido estaria a ser escutado e, salvo na escuridão, cada movimento, vigiado.
—George Orwell, 1984, Público 2002 (1949)