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FEDERICO GARCIA LORCA ~ NO ONE IS SLEEPING IN THIS WORLD

Monique — Wed, 05 Jun 2019 08:07:08 +0000

Federico Garcia Lorca

“Let there be a landscape of open eyes and bitter wounds on fire. No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one. I have said it before.”

Who was Federico Garcia Lorca?

Federico del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús García Lorca, known as Federico García Lorca; (5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936), was a Spanish poet, playwright, and theatre director.

García Lorca achieved international recognition as an emblematic member of the Generation of ’27, a group consisting of mostly poets who introduced the tenets of European movements (such as symbolism, futurism, and surrealism) into Spanish literature.

He was executed by Nationalist forces at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War. His body has never been found. (source wikipedia)

The Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca

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THE ENCHANTMENTS OF THE SIRENS

Monique — Sat, 03 Dec 2016 20:41:57 +0000

THE SIRENS ARE ENCHANTERS

Circe warns Odysseus about the Sirens:

“You will come first of all to the Sirens, who are enchanters
of all mankind and whoever comes their way; and that man
who unsuspecting approaches them, and listens to the Sirens
singing, has no prospect of coming home and delighting
his wife and little children as they stand about him in greeting,
but the Sirens by the melody of their singing enchant him.

They sit in their meadow, but the beach before it is piled with boneheaps of men now rotted away, and the skins shrivel upon them.

You must drive straight on past, but melt down sweet wax of honey
and with it stop your companions’ ears, so none can listen;
the rest, that is, but if you yourself are wanting to hear them,
then have them tie you hand and foot on the fast ship, standing
upright against the mast with the ropes’ ends lashed around it,
so that you can have joy in hearing the song of the Sirens;
but if you supplicate your men and implore them to set you
free, then they must tie you fast with even more lashings.”

Homerus, Odysseus

‘Sirenes’
Charles Edward Boutibonne 1883

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TOGETHER IN OUR ENDLESS SOLITUDE ~ PAUL ELUARD

Monique — Sun, 20 Nov 2016 14:21:02 +0000

A poem by Paul Eluard

“I cannot be known
Better than you know me

Your eyes in which we sleep
We together
Have made for my man’s gleam
A better fate than for the common nights

Your eyes in which I travel
Have given to signs along the roads
A meaning alien to the earth

In your eyes who reveal to us
Our endless solitude

Are no longer what they thought themselves to be

You cannot be known
Better than I know you.”

― Paul Éluard

A French Poet

Eugène Grindel (1895-1952), known as Paul Éluard, was a French poet who was dedicated to Dadaism and Surrealism. He was a great admirer of symbolist and avant-garde poets such as Arthur Rimbaud, Charles Baudelaire, and Guillaume Apollinaire. The woman you see in the photo is his second wife Nusch Eluard (1906-1946) She was a French performer, model and surrealist artist.

Surrealism by Surrealists

What do we know about Surrealism? Surrealists say true reality only comes from your subconscious. It is for this reason that over time concepts and techniques were developed allowing the artists to use the subconscious mind. They wanted to be able to learn and discover the depths of their brains.

Surrealism was most popular among painters because of its immediate and clear form of expression. In comparison to other forms of art including poetry and literature, it was much harder to be expressed. Surrealists believed in a structured clearly outlined process when expressing themselves. The aesthetics were not that important.

Of course, we can also find surrealism in the film industry, a great example of a Surreal movie is The Blood of a Poet (1932) directed by Jean Cocteau

According to Octavio Paz, (1914-1998) the Mexican writer and poet, “Surrealism is not a poetry but a poetics, and even more, and more decisively, a world vision”. Paz himself was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1990.

Picture by Man Ray

Photograph of Nusch and Paul Eluard made by the famous photographer Man Ray(1890-1976.) American painter, maker of Surrealist objects and photographer.

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LEONARD COHEN ~ A MEMOIR OF MELANCHOLY

Monique — Fri, 11 Nov 2016 15:09:43 +0000

Leonard Cohen (1934 – 2016)

“Like a bird on the wire, Like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free.”

We mourn the passing of a Leonard Norman Cohen: Canadian Singer, Songwriter, Poet and Novelist. Cohen died today on the 11th of November 2016, at the age of 82. For many years, Leonard Cohen has been revealing his soul to the world through his poetry and songwriting. His profound and timeless words expressed through his poetical music have already touched 4 generations and will continue to do so for many to come.

When Cohen began writing poetry and novels his intellect became more abundantly present. Although for sure he will be remembered more for his songs he has written many beautiful books and poetry.
His bestseller “Book of Longing” contains a great collection of his poetry and drawings. It was published in 2006. Soon after the release Philip Glass composed modern classical music to the beautiful poetic lyrics. Glass and Cohen have been performing together and also recorded a CD that might still be available.

Other novels include “The Favorite Game” and “Beautiful Losers”. Some of his most elegant published poetry is “Let Us Compare Mythologies” and “The Spice-Box of Earth”. I personally think the mystery he added to the words in his songs is what makes his music attractive to people. You never get bored listening to it.

“Cohen is a master of the quasi-surrealistic phrase, of the ‘illogical’ line that speaks so directly to the unconscious that surface ambiguity is transformed into ultimate, if fleeting, comprehension: comprehension of the bewitching nuances of sex and bewildering assaults of culture,” author Tom Robbins wrote in the booklet of “Tower of Song,” a 1996 tribute album.

As a singer-songwriter, he had a literary sensibility that made him a popular artist. The older he got the happier he become which led him to say: “ … That background of distress dissolved. I’m worried now that my songs are too cheerful because I’m feeling well. I think I may be irrelevant pretty soon.” In the end, he didn’t… He will stay with us for a long time….

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ERATO, MUSE OF POETRY

Monique — Fri, 18 Mar 2016 19:46:04 +0000

Erato, Muse Of Poetry
Sir Edward John Poynter (1870)

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D.H. LAWRENCE ~ ROSES

Monique — Mon, 22 Feb 2016 19:55:22 +0000

Roses

Nature responds so beautifully.
Roses are only once-wild roses, that were given an extra chance,
So they bloomed out and filled themselves with coloured fulness
Out of sheer desire to be splendid, and more splendid.

D.H. Lawrence

“My Sweet Rose” (1903)

John William Waterhouse (1849-1917)

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ANNA AKHMATOVA ~ SILENT WORDS

Monique — Wed, 30 Dec 2015 20:31:08 +0000

”The triumphs of a mysterious non-meeting are desolate ones; unspoken phrases, silent words.”

Anna Akhmatova ((23 June 1889 – 5 March 1966 / Odessa)

www.moniquespassions.com

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TEARS OF HUMANITY…

Monique — Mon, 16 Nov 2015 15:41:08 +0000

Tears of humanity, tears of humanity,

flowing eternally early and late…

Flowing invisibly, flowing in secrecy,

ever abundantly, ever unceasingly –

flowing as rain flows with autumn finality

all through the night like a river in spate

(1849) Fyodor Tyutchev

translation Peter Tempest

Monument to the Dead (1895) by French sculptor Albert Bartholomé

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CHRISTINA ROSSETTI ~ OCTOBER

Monique — Thu, 22 Oct 2015 13:40:35 +0000

OCTOBER

Crack your first nut and light your first fire;

Roast your first chestnut crisp on the bar;

Make the logs sparkle, stir the blaze higher,

Logs are cheery as sun or as star,

Logs we can find wherever we are.

Spring one soft day will open the leaves,

Spring one bright day will lure back the flowers;

Never fancy my whistling wind grieves,

Never fancy I’ve tears in my showers;

Dance, nights and days! And dance on, my hours!

Christina Rossetti,

from The Months: A Pageant.

Painting: Autumn Leaves

Sir John Everett Millais – 1855-1856

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DOROTHY PARKER ~ MIDNIGHT

Monique — Tue, 19 May 2015 08:59:36 +0000

Midnight
The stars are soft as flowers, and as near;
The hills are webs of shadow, slowly spun;
No separate leaf or single blade is here-
All blend to one.
No moonbeam cuts the air; a sapphire light
Rolls lazily. and slips again to rest.
There is no edged thing in all this night,
Save in my breast.
Dorothy Parker

Summer Night

Stanislav Zhukovsky – 1912

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