Tag: Longing

• May 31, 2012

  Our graying hair

  I have gray hairs. I have long hair. How long will it be before I have gray hair? I long for a radiant woman whose hairs are also gray. I see her long hair and her dark eyes and I crave for this being. I see her skin and I crave for her. How long…
• May 18, 2012

  ‘Come here love…’

  Come here love: the evening itches on, like limbs inching unseen, each stretch kept under quiet wraps, his purr lending peonies, their wings rinsing the other’s dark silence.   *   *   * Now, the window thyme in morning sun. Now, the long trunk but an X-axis. Yet: a single sprig is yenning Up.…
• May 2, 2012

  A Gothic afternoon

  For two days, the morning fog has blanketed the hillside rising above the cabin. It is, she is right, a bony, smoky shade. We were standing at the lookout when she said the last. We had hiked up a red clay path on a Gothic afternoon–gray sky, abandoned ruins, blasted trees–only to stop at the…
• April 4, 2012

  On the art of longing for a radiant way of being

  The truth of metaphysics is revealed in the question, “Can this [way of life] be all?” (Adorno, Negative Dialectics). My longing is a longing for another way of life beyond the one I inhabit. The truth of the perdurance of the soul is that of a being that leaves behind one way of life but…
• February 2, 2012

  Bernini’s Pluto and Proserpina: Beauty, death, and eros

  The image you are looking at was not taken by a camera. Nor were the fingers pressed into the underside of the woman’s thigh. Nor the index finger–his left index finger–hooked onto her lower rib, marking it. Nor the veins on her butt beginning at the the top of her hip. Nor was the birthmark…