#Robinson Jeffers

[mirefireflies]

cassandra, daughter of troy

cassandra - florence and the machine / mad, mad, mad - m.c (@diradea)/ roman-pompeian wall painting, first century bce / cassandra - robinson jeffers / cassandra - evelyn de morgan / the oresteia: agamemnon - aeschylus / little girls - mira lightner (@aliralyre) / cassandra - abba / cassandra - anthony frederick augustus sandys

#web weaving #cassandra #cassandra of troy #greek mythology #classics #doomed by the narrative #florence and the machine #robinson jeffers #evelyn de morgan #the oresteia #aeschylus #mira lightner #abba #anthony fredrick augustus sandys #<333

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

“It is easy to know the beauty of inhuman things, sea, / storm and mountain; it is their soul and their meaning. / Humanity has its lesser beauty, impure and painful; we / have to harden our hearts to bear it.” — Robinson Jeffers, from “The World’s Wonders,” Selected Poems (Vintage, 1965)

[Alive On All Channels]

#Happy New year #New year #Robinson Jeffers #The World's Wonders

[pureamericanism]

We Are Those People

by Robinson Jeffers

I have abhorred the wars and despised the liars, laughed at the frightened And forecast victory; never one moment's doubt. But now not far, over the backs of some crawling years, the next Great war's column of dust and fire writhes Up the sides of the sky: it becomes clear that we too may suffer What others have, the brutal horror of defeat— Or if not in the next, then in the next—therefore watch Germany And read the future. We wish, of course, that our women Would die like biting rats in the cellars, our men like wolves on the mountain: It will not be so. Our men will curse, cringe, obey; Our women uncover themselves to the grinning victors for bits of chocolate.

====================

Like so much of Jeffers' short poetry, this was written in the shadow of World War 2. In this case, it was in the immediate aftermath of the war, and the brutal Allied occupation of Germany, full of ethnic cleansing, rape, and mass starvation. Many - both now, and at the time - saw in all this some sort of Justice for the even more brutal German occupation of eastern Europe and the USSR. Well, that is as may be, but Justice is ultimately the prerogative of the gods. And the arch-conservative, arch-materialist, arch-pagan Jeffers saw no reason to expect that our beautiful America would not itself someday receive the divine condemnation it already, in his own day, richly deserved. And if he was - happily for him! - not Cassandra enough to foresee the exact contours, he was historian enough to know its inevitability.

Happy Memorial Day!

#america #robinson jeffers #memorial day

[litteratured]

Robinson Jeffers

#robinson jeffers #poets

[curating-the-stars]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝

𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 (𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚂𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐,, 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜, 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘)

𝚂𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 - 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚖 (𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐):

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎

I am not dead, I have only become inhuman:

That is to say,

Undressed myself of laughable prides and infirmities,

But not as a man

Undresses to creep into bed, but like an athlete

Stripping for the race.

The delicate ravel of nerves that made me a measurer

Of certain fictions

Called good and evil; that made me contract with pain

And expand with pleasure;

That's gone, it is true;

(I never miss it; if the universe does,

How easily replaced!)

But all the rest is heightened, widened, set free.

I admired the beauty

While I was human, now I am part of the beauty.

I wander in the air,

Being mostly gas and water, and flow in the ocean;

Touch you and Asia

At the same moment; have a hand in the sunrises

And the glow of this grass.

I left the light precipitate of ashes to earth

For a love-token.

- 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙹𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚜

#poem #poetry #robinson jeffers #first post #new to tumblr #i have no idea what i am doing #nature poem #nature poetry #death poem #death poetry #talking to myself #talking to the void

[fatecanberewritten]

He is strong and pain is worse to the strong.

Robinson Jeffers, Hurt Hawks

#quotes #hurt hawks #robinson jeffers #poetry #strength #pain

[dk-thrive]

Does it matter whether you hate yourself? At least love your eyes that can see, your mind that can hear the music, the thunder of the wings.

Robinson Jeffers, from “Love the Wild Swan” in “The Year of the Hunter” by Czeslaw Milosz (Macmillan, Oct 31, 1995) (via Wait-What?)

#Robinson Jeffers #self love #self hate #gratitude #see #mind #thoughts

[cutiewithawakenedheart]

"Walk there all day you shall see nothing that will not make part of a poem."

----Robinson Jeffers

#panda #awakened heart #poetry #Robinson Jeffers

[fullmoonandbooks]

#robinson jeffers #poetry #candor and medea #coffee and books #currently reading

[seekingstars]

Oh, Lovely Rock - Robinson Jeffers

#poetry #robinson jeffers

[juliansummerhayes]

“I've changed my ways a little, I cannot now Run with you in the evenings along the shore, Except in a kind of dream, and you, if you dream a moment, You see me there.” ― Robinson Jeffers

Born this day 1887.

#robinson jeffers

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Gallery art :: Santa Fe NM

* * * * 

"Does it matter whether you hate yourself? At least love your eyes that can see, your mind that can hear the music, the thunder of the wings."

- Robinson Jeffers, Pantheist Poet

#about art #poem #poetry #the senses #Robinson Jeffers

[tail-feathers]

Mood.

#robinson jeffers

[pureamericanism]

The House-Dog's Grave

or Haig, an English Bulldog

By Robinson Jeffers

=======

I’ve changed my ways a little; I cannot now Run with you in the evenings along the shore, Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment, You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door Where I used to scratch to go out or in, And you’d soon open; leave on the kitchen floor The marks of my drinking pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do On the warm stone, Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the night through I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet Outside your window where firelight so often plays, And where you sit to read–and I fear often grieving for me– Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard To think of you ever dying A little dog would get tired, living so long. I hope than when you are lying

Under the ground like me your lives will appear As good and joyful as mine. No, dear, that’s too much hope: you are not so well cared for As I have been.

And never have known the passionate undivided Fidelities that I knew. Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided. . . . But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend. I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,

I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.

=======

No commentary this time.

#robinson jeffers #requiescat in pace

[blogdemocratesjr]

Kristian Levin

GOD: Have you marked on earth My latter peoples? SATAN: Marked, marked? I’ve so marked them That no one dreams them yours.

—Robinson Jeffers, “The Alpine Christ”

The individual human being, membered as he is within mankind as a whole, has an effect upon the whole world according to whether he speaks the truth or lies; for beings created by truth or by lies produce quite different effects. Imagine a people which was composed entirely of liars, the astral plane would be populated solely by the corresponding demons and these demons would be able to express themselves in a constitutional tendency to epidemics. Thus there is a certain species of bacilli who are the carriers of infectious diseases; these beings are the progeny of the lies told by human beings; they are nothing else than physically embodied demons generated by lies.

—Rudolf Steiner, Theosophy of the Rosicrucian: Lecture 6

#Kristian Levin #superrare #Leo #Ahriman #the Tau #Cancer #Aquarius #Pisces #anthroposophy #spiritual science #Robinson Jeffers #The Alpine Christ #poetry

[dk-thrive]

To feel and speak the astonishing beauty of things

To feel and speak the astonishing beauty of things - earth, stone and water, Beast, man and woman, sun, moon and stars - The blood-shot beauty of human nature, its thoughts, frenzies and passions, And unhuman nature its towering reality - For man's half dream; man, you might say, is nature dreaming, but rock And water and sky are constant - to feel Greatly, and understand greatly, and express greatly, the natural Beauty, is the sole business of poetry. The rest's diversion: those holy or noble sentiments, the intricate ideas, The love, lust, longing: reasons, but not the reason.

— Robinson Jeffers, The Beauty of Things by Karl Alexander Keller (University of Utah, 1959) (via Alive on All Channels)

#Robinson Jeffers #beauty #nature #poetry #poem