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It is not down in any map...

. . . true places never are.
~Herman Melville


© Sergon

"One of the joys of travel is visiting
new towns and meeting new people."
~G. Khan [1]



Posted by Ben Trovato : ,

2 comments:

  1. Quinty2/2/10, 11:21 AM

    With heart at rest I climbed the citadel's
    Steep height, and saw the city as from a tower,
    Hospital, brothel, prison, and such hells,

    Where evil comes up softly like a flower.
    Thou knowest, O Satan, patron of my pain
    Not for vain tears I went up at that hour;

    But like an old sad faithful lecher, fain
    To drink delight of that enormous trull
    Whose hellish beauty makes me young again.

    Whether thou sleep, with heavy vapours full,
    Sodden with day, or, new apparelled, stand
    in gold-laced veils of evening beautiful,

    I love thee, infamous city! Harlots and
    Hunted have pleasures of their own to give,
    the vulgar herd can never understand.

    Baudelaire

    ReplyDelete
  2. Jeremiah2/2/10, 12:28 PM

    And from that time on I bathed in the Poem
    Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk,
    Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam,
    A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down;

    Where, suddenly dyeing the bluenesses, deliriums
    And slow rhythms under the gleams of the daylight,
    Stronger than alcohol, vaster than music
    Ferment the bitter rednesses of love!

    I have come to know the skies splitting with lightnings, and the waterspouts
    And the breakers and currents; I know the evening,
    And Dawn rising up like a flock of doves,
    And sometimes I have seen what men have imagined they saw!

    I have seen the low-hanging sun speckled with mystic horrors.
    Lighting up long violet coagulations,
    Like the performers in very-antique dramas
    Waves rolling back into the distances their shiverings of venetian blinds!

    I have dreamed of the green night of the dazzled snows
    The kiss rising slowly to the eyes of the seas,
    The circulation of undreamed-of saps,
    And the yellow-blue awakenings of singing phosphorus!

    I have followed, for whole months on end, the swells
    Battering the reefs like hysterical herds of cows,
    Never dreaming that the luminous feet of the Marys
    Could force back the muzzles of snorting Oceans!

    I have struck, do you realize, incredible Floridas
    Where mingle with flowers the eyes of panthers
    In human skins! Rainbows stretched like bridles
    Under the seas' horizon, to glaucous herds!

    I have seen the enormous swamps seething, traps
    Where a whole leviathan rots in the reeds!
    Downfalls of waters in the midst of the calm
    And distances cataracting down into abysses!

    Glaciers, suns of silver, waves of pearl, skies of red-hot coals!
    Hideous wrecks at the bottom of brown gulfs
    Where the giant snakes devoured by vermin
    Fall from the twisted trees with black odours!

    I should have liked to show to children those dolphins
    Of the blue wave, those golden, those singing fishes.
    - Foam of flowers rocked my driftings
    And at times ineffable winds would lend me wings.
    (...)

    Rimbaud

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