Showing posts with label women poets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women poets. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

the haunting of Alajandre Pizarnik, said Princess Haiku



Alajandre Pizarnik
was born on April 29,1936 to Russian Jewish immigrant parents in Avellaneda, a suburb of Buenos Aires, Argentina. A year after entering the department of Philosophy and Letters at the Universidad de Buenos Aires, Pizarnik published her first book of poetry, La tierra más ajena (1955). Soon after, she studied painting with Juan Batlle Planas. Pizarnik followed her debut work with two more volumes of poems, La última inocencia (1956) and Las aventuras perdidas (1958).

From 1960 to 1964 Pizarnik lived in Paris. There she worked for the journal Cuadernos, sat on the editorial board of the magazine Les Lettres Nouvelles, and participated in the Parisian literary world. Pizarnik also attended a variety of courses at the Sorbonne, including contemporary French Literature. She died in Buenos Aires of a self-induced overdose of the prescription drug; seconal.

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Pizarnik is in many senses, the Argentine equivalent of the American poet, Sylvia Plath, who also tragically ended her life by suicide.

During her short life, Alejandra published eight small books that have earned her a fundamental place in poetry in Spanish. Her forerunners were the Arab-Andalusian poets of the Middle Ages, as well as Quevedo, San Juan de la Cruz and Sor Juana; to these she later added her readings of Rimbaud, Yves Bonnefoy and the French surrealists. Eventually, her poetic vocabulary became unique: echoes of the Spanish of the Golden Age and of the laborious games of twentieth-century French poetry can be heard in the background of her writing, but they are never allowed a full presence.

Alejandra’s style is too ascetic, too demanding for any such intrusions and the words she chooses to allow onto the page must undergo frightful ordeals of expurgation. As in fairy-tales, only a handful of those who survive the terrible tests are allowed in the end to live happily ever after. In her diary, on 30 October 1962, after quoting from Don Quixote,(“...but what pleased Don Quixote most was the marvellous silence that reigned in the whole house...”) she wrote: “Mustn’t forget to commit suicide
.”


ASHES

The night splintered into stars
watching me dazzled
the air hurls hate
its face embellished with music.

We will go soon

Secret dream
ancestor of my smile
the world is emaciated
and there is a lock but no keys
and there is terror but not tears.

What will I do with myself?

Because to You I owe what I am

But I have no tomorrow

Because to You I...

The night suffers.




Here is an excerpt of her writings.

Alejandra Pizarnik's Poetics

"Ojalá pudiera vivir solamente en éxtasis, hacienda el cuerpo del poema con mi cuerpo, rescatando cada frase con mis días y con mis semanas, infundiéndole al poema mi soplo a medida que cada letra de cada palabra haya sido sacrificada en las ceremonias del vivir."

If only I were able to live solely in ecstasy, making the body of the poem with my body, redeeming each phrase with my days and weeks, infusing the poem with my breath for each word that has been sacrificed in the ceremonies of living.

"La poesía es el lugar donde todo sucede. A semejanza del amor, del humor, del suicidio y de todo acto profundamente subversivo, la poesía se desentiende de lo que no es su libertad o su verdad. Decir libertad o verdad y referir estas palabras al mundo en que vivimos o no vivimos es decir una mentira. No lo es cuando se las atribuye a la poesía: lugar donde todo es posible."

Poetry is the place where everything happens. Similar to love, humor, suicide and every profoundly subversive act, poetry is not interested in that which is not its freedom or truth. To say freedom or truth and refer these words to the world we live in or do not live in is to tell a lie. It isn't when they are attributed to poetry: the place where all is possible.

And this excerpt from my favorite poem of Pizarnik.



From Arbol de Diana
6
she undresses in the paradise
of her memory
she does not know the ferocious destiny
of her visions
she is scared of not knowing how to name
what does not exist.

36
in the cage of the time
the slept one watches with her single eyes
the wind brings her
the tenuous answer of the leaves



In conclusion it must be said that poetry is an often haunted and dangerous vocation. -One that strips self from self and may leave a vampire feasting upon its own marrow; a suicide in sunlight.

Saturday, March 01, 2014

Anne Hebert




More and More Narrow

That woman at her window
A place for her elbows on the sill
A vermillion furor tied to her side
Lovely nasturtium in blue sandstone.

She watches a bitter traffic pass
And doesn't budge
All day
Afraid to bump into that wall of silence behind her.

Frosted breath on her neck
Silent space where that man of salt
Has just enough place
Between the woman's back and the wall
To damn her veins that freeze each time he breathes
His slow, cold and immobile breath.

Anne Hebert


© BOA Editions, Ltd 1987

Monday, November 25, 2013

After Girl With a Pearl, said Princess Haiku


Pearl Incantare

November 25, 2013 at 9:43am






Her luminescence is an island of white slumber.
The girl believes pathos is a river that runs a course through stars.

I enter this painting, bring “I” to a place of sleep. Eyelids of the sky vanish. Eyes are the pearl.
She is dressed in lapis lazuli blue.

A flow of vulnerability floods the self.  She is me. You are her. 

Secrets of our nature are revealed in her gaze.
The museum guard is unaware that I have unhooked the painting from history.

Slipped it slowly from the wall and hidden it in my soul.
She becomes a poem from my silence to a petal.

Flora fauna self, spring of all seasons.
Girl with the Pearl.

Johannes Vermeer, the sphinx of Delft was a magician
who conjured innocence:

Girl With A Pearl.

A pearl in her mouth.
Pearl teeth of the dream.
A petal, unpetaled from the flower of the fruit.

Poetry written with ultramarine ink etched into pale flesh.
Girl with a pearl, how she possesses me.

Diane Dehler


Published in Pirene's Fountain, November, 2013

Sunday, November 18, 2007

..fair thou art as moonlight after Rain







Joy is but sorrow
While we know
It ends to-morrow---
Even so!
Joy with lifted veil
Shows a face as pale
As the fair changing moon so fair and frail.

Pain is but pleasure,
If we know
It heaps up treasure:---
Even so!
Turn, transfigured Pain,
Sweetheart, turn again, .
For fair Thou art as moonrise after Rain

Christina Rossetti

Christina Rossetti was born into an Italian/English family in London in 1830. Her book of poetry, "Goblin Market & Other Poems" was one of the first, great triumphs of the Pre-Raphaelite era. Christina led the cloistered, confined and sad life of many women of her day. If she were alive today we would hope she could dance with joy under the moon at times rather than only leave tears to water night blooming jasmine.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Sea Violets by H.D.







This poem, Sea Violets by H.D. reminds me of my late mother.


Sea Violet

The white violet
is scented on its stalk,
the sea-violet
fragile as agate,
lies fronting all the wind
amonth the torn shells
on the and-bank.

The greater blue violets
flutter on the hill,
but who would change for these
who would change for these
one root of the white sort?

Violet
your grasp is frail
on the edge of the sand-hill,
but you catch the light-
frost, a star edges with its fire.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Ghost Flower


Ghost Orchid

After watering
her for months
with tears,

My ghost flower
bloomed.

She became a
magenta orchid,
the color of

Princess Haiku's
textured lips.