Das Gebläse meines Computers surrt leise,
und mein Tinnitus klingt
wie das Rauschen eines alten Fernsehgeräts
auf dessen Bildschirm es schneit
– Leonard Blumfeld (Copyright 2007)
Übertragung einer englischen Version.
Ein Exemplar einer Gedichtform, die der Verfasser als sigh (Seufzer) bezeichnet und als deren Vorläufer er die pastorale Elegie ansieht.
26.3.07
Welches Bild ist vor meinem Auge erschienen?
(Raag Multani, Nachmittag)
Eine deutsche Version eines englischen Fibonacci-Gedichts von Leonard Blumfeld. Mittlerweile hat er in seinem Blog mehrere Fibonaccis veröffentlicht, die sich von indischen Ragas für verschiedene Tageszeiten inspirieren ließen.
(Copyright Leonard Blumfeld 2007)
Was
für
ein Ich,
welches Ich
Bin ist im Auge
gewachsen, das in meines sah?
für
ein Ich,
welches Ich
Bin ist im Auge
gewachsen, das in meines sah?
Eine deutsche Version eines englischen Fibonacci-Gedichts von Leonard Blumfeld. Mittlerweile hat er in seinem Blog mehrere Fibonaccis veröffentlicht, die sich von indischen Ragas für verschiedene Tageszeiten inspirieren ließen.
(Copyright Leonard Blumfeld 2007)
25.3.07
Unbelievable Sir
Money's to be had at the drop of a hat, and spammers are quick to alert anyone to the fact. Today the alert came from Lionello Ramchandra, the best of at least two worlds, so to speak, who hails from laureanosioux@atlanta.com, adding yet other ethnic dimensions.
His heart-warming message:
His heart-warming message:
Unbelievable Sir
Home-owner,
You have been pre-approved for a Home Loan at a Fixed Rate.
This offer is being extended to you unconditionally and we will work with=
you regardless your credit
http://mortsakjekh.blogspot.com/
To take Advantage of this Limited Time opportunity all
we ask is that you visit our Website and complete
the 1 minute post Approval Form.
http://mortsakjailyuyu.blogspot.com/
Thank for reading.
Endorsement Assistant
http://mortsavinkily.blogspot.com/
My email wastes your time? Oops there
Nice afterthought, that "oops there".
Everybody please visit mortsavinkily.blogsopt.com and flag it.
Yours sincerely,
Unbelievable Sir Home-Owner
24.3.07
ABC-Nonsensgedicht
Achmed
brachte
Carmen
drei
Elefanten,
fand
gleich
hinter
ihnen
Jauche,
kletterte
langsam,
mühsam
nach
oben,
pausierte,
quatschte,
ratschte,
spähte,
tat
und
versank
wedelnd.
Xundheit,
Yvonne,
zum
Ärger
öder
Übel,
ßeiß
(drum).
brachte
Carmen
drei
Elefanten,
fand
gleich
hinter
ihnen
Jauche,
kletterte
langsam,
mühsam
nach
oben,
pausierte,
quatschte,
ratschte,
spähte,
tat
und
versank
wedelnd.
Xundheit,
Yvonne,
zum
Ärger
öder
Übel,
ßeiß
(drum).
– Jernst Andl (Copyright 2007)
23.3.07
Das Wort ist ein Fächer
Die Lyrikmail von heute brachte Goethe, und zwar etwas, das mich aus dem riesigen Goetheschen Werk anzublitzen scheint wie ein origineller kleiner Edelstein ...
– Johannes Wolfgang von Goethe
Wink
Und doch haben sie recht, die ich schelte:
Denn, daß ein Wort nicht einfach gelte,
Das müßte sich wohl von selbst verstehn.
Das Wort ist ein Fächer! Zwischen den Stäben
Blicken ein Paar schöne Augen hervor.
Der Fächer ist nur ein lieblicher Flor,
Er verdeckt mir zwar das Gesicht,
Aber das Mädchen verbirgt er nicht,
Weil das Schönste, was sie besitzt,
Das Auge, mir ins Auge blitzt.
– Johannes Wolfgang von Goethe
22.3.07
Eye opener
I
can
barely
open my
eyes at this point in
time, but time will tell whether they
shall remain open,
but try I
will, so
can
I?
can
barely
open my
eyes at this point in
time, but time will tell whether they
shall remain open,
but try I
will, so
can
I?
A forward and reverse fibonacci, also called a diamond.
Received from one who calls himself morningworker233x5 and wishes to remain anonymous. He (or she?) was also the one to inform me of the special poetic terminology.
Thank you & copyright morningworker233x5
Received from one who calls himself morningworker233x5 and wishes to remain anonymous. He (or she?) was also the one to inform me of the special poetic terminology.
Thank you & copyright morningworker233x5
20.3.07
Hungarians are afraid of the Pirese
Can this be for real? Xenophobia directed at an ethnic group that doesn't even exist?
According to recent surveys, an increasing number of Hungarians oppose the immigration of Pirese to their country. Never heard of them? The Pirese were invented by a research institute to compare the attitude of Hungarians towards existent minorities - Roma, Germans, Slovaks, Serbs - with their feelings towards a fictitious group. Gusztav Megyesi comments with sarcasm: "Surprisingly, the Pirese are most hated by the left and the prosperous inhabitants of western Hungary. They hate the Pirese mainly because they've never met one. Personal contact would perhaps help to reduce prejudices... Why hasn't a politician come up with the idea of making his career by saving our country from the Pirese? 'I have had all Pirese deported. I am the Hungarian people's best hope. I want to rule,' he could proclaim. And his political opponents wouldn't be able to produce a single Pirese to refute these claims."(Reported by courrierinternational.com, but also in today's Stuttgarter Nachrichten in an article titled Piresen raus aus Ungarn!)
19.3.07
Kommen und Gehen von Klabund
Dieses gemächlich wie seine rosa Wolken schwebende Gedicht von Klabund (1890-1928) mit seinem leisen Jasminatem erweckt den Eindruck des Kommens und Gehens, indem es sich in der 2. Strophe in umgekehrter Reihenfolge wiederholt.Die Luft ist voll von deinem Duft,Es flog wiederum als Elektronikpost von der Lyrikmail ins Haus.
O süßer Leib du von Jasmin!
Die Uhr schlägt drei. Am Horizont
Die ersten rosa Wolken ziehn.
Die ersten rosa Wolken ziehn
Am Horizont. Die Uhr schlägt drei.
O süßer Leib du von Jasmin,
Die Luft ist voll von deinem Duft!
17.3.07
Oh Gott, schon Mittag ...
... und noch keine einzige Minute gewinnbringend verschwendet.
Wieder nur rumbegloggt.Toller Dreher, wat?
blöd... kapiersch net
Das war der Kommentar eines hier nicht namentlich zu nennenden Cybermitbürgers zu einer andernorts im Cyberspace veröffentlichten Geschichte (Details tun nichts zur Sache), die mir eigentlich logisch einleuchtend und durchaus zu verstehen schien. Vielleicht setzte sie aber etwas literarisches Hintergrundwissen und sogar sowas wie Denkfähigkeit voraus.
Dieser Kommentar, so könnte man – vielleicht etwas abgehoben und zu verallgemeinernd – mutmaßen, steht für eine heute gehäuft anzutreffende starke Ausprägung Kantschen Selbstverständnisses:
Dieser Kommentar, so könnte man – vielleicht etwas abgehoben und zu verallgemeinernd – mutmaßen, steht für eine heute gehäuft anzutreffende starke Ausprägung Kantschen Selbstverständnisses:
Wenn ich etwas nicht verstehe, dann kann's nie und nimmer an mir selbst liegen, da meine Sicht ja das Maß aller Dinge ist.
16.3.07
Late night fibonacci
The
late
night fib-
onacci
floats on the milky
rays of moonlight, basks in pale gold.
late
night fib-
onacci
floats on the milky
rays of moonlight, basks in pale gold.
– Lenny Bloomfeld (Copyright 2007)
Note
A German version of this poem can be found at the author's site, where the Indian yellow color he insisted on looks much better.
President Bush in Heaven and Hell
While praying in his private chapel one day, a well-known current Republican head of state is tragically struck by the falling cross and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the Pearly Gate.
“Welcome to Heaven,” says St. Peter. “There seems to be a little problem. You see, we seldom see a high official around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the ex-head of state.
“Well, as much as I'd like to, I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”
“Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven. That was my plan even back in Texas,” says the ex-head of state.
“I'm sorry, but we have our rules.”
With that, St. Peter escorts the ex-head of state to the elevator, and he goes down, down, down to Hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush green golf course. In the distance there is a club, and standing in front of it are all of his buddies, campaign manager and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress.
They run to greet him, hug him and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. Also present is the Devil (another Republican), a chummy guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes.
They are having such a good time that time is up all too soon. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves while the elevator rises. The elevator goes up, up, up, and the door reopens in Heaven, where St. Peter is waiting.
“Time to visit Heaven.”
So 24 hours pass with the ex-head of state joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They are having a good time in their modest way and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
“Well then, you've spent a day in Hell and another one in Heaven. Now choose where you want to be for eternity.”
Our ex-head of state reflects for a minute, then answers, “Well, I would never have thought it, I mean Heaven has been delightful and all, but I think I would be better off in Hell.”
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator, and he goes down, down, down to Hell. The doors of the elevator open, and he is in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.* He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags.
The Devil comes over to the ex-head of state and lays an arm on his neck.
“I don't understand,” stammers our ex-head of state. “When I was here yesterday, there was a golf course and club, we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, danced and had a great time. Now all I see is this wasteland full of garbage, and my friends look miserable.”
The Devil looks at him, smiles and says, “Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted for us!”
*It may not be necessary to go to Hell to experience this. Just give these leaders and their cronies a few more years, and Earth will look like this.
“Welcome to Heaven,” says St. Peter. “There seems to be a little problem. You see, we seldom see a high official around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the ex-head of state.
“Well, as much as I'd like to, I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”
“Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven. That was my plan even back in Texas,” says the ex-head of state.
“I'm sorry, but we have our rules.”
With that, St. Peter escorts the ex-head of state to the elevator, and he goes down, down, down to Hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush green golf course. In the distance there is a club, and standing in front of it are all of his buddies, campaign manager and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress.
They run to greet him, hug him and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. Also present is the Devil (another Republican), a chummy guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes.
They are having such a good time that time is up all too soon. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves while the elevator rises. The elevator goes up, up, up, and the door reopens in Heaven, where St. Peter is waiting.
“Time to visit Heaven.”
So 24 hours pass with the ex-head of state joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They are having a good time in their modest way and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
“Well then, you've spent a day in Hell and another one in Heaven. Now choose where you want to be for eternity.”
Our ex-head of state reflects for a minute, then answers, “Well, I would never have thought it, I mean Heaven has been delightful and all, but I think I would be better off in Hell.”
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator, and he goes down, down, down to Hell. The doors of the elevator open, and he is in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.* He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags.
The Devil comes over to the ex-head of state and lays an arm on his neck.
“I don't understand,” stammers our ex-head of state. “When I was here yesterday, there was a golf course and club, we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, danced and had a great time. Now all I see is this wasteland full of garbage, and my friends look miserable.”
The Devil looks at him, smiles and says, “Yesterday we were campaigning. Today you voted for us!”
*It may not be necessary to go to Hell to experience this. Just give these leaders and their cronies a few more years, and Earth will look like this.
Nandigram conflict continues
The western media do not seem to cover it at all, but the Nandigram SEZ conflict I posted on from Kolkata in January is still very much going on, or has even escalated dramatically.
Sanhati | Fighting Neoliberalism in Bengal | keeps reporting.
What continues to strike me as paradoxical is that it is a communist party – which should by definition defend the interests of the common people – that is behind this forcible acquisition of agricultural land for industrialization.
But then again it could be said that communist parties have a long history of not representing the people's interests, be it in Russia, China, North Korea or elsewhere.
Even more generally speaking, it could be questioned whether any party whatsoever and anywhere actually represents the people's interests.
Reminds me of a President Bush joke.
Sanhati | Fighting Neoliberalism in Bengal | keeps reporting.
What continues to strike me as paradoxical is that it is a communist party – which should by definition defend the interests of the common people – that is behind this forcible acquisition of agricultural land for industrialization.
But then again it could be said that communist parties have a long history of not representing the people's interests, be it in Russia, China, North Korea or elsewhere.
Even more generally speaking, it could be questioned whether any party whatsoever and anywhere actually represents the people's interests.
Reminds me of a President Bush joke.
Ein Blog nur für die Spammer
Für alle, die noch nicht wissen, von welchem wundervollen Fleischprodukt die Bezeichung für die Epidemie abgeleitet wurde, unter der die heutige E-Mail-Welt leidet. Eigentlich wäre der Firma Hormel dringend anzuraten, ein paar findige Rechtsanwälte anzuheuern, um die Spammer wegen Missbrauchs eines geschützten Warenzeichens zu verklagen.Soeben bin ich über einen Blog gestolpert, der sich unserer geliebten Freunde von der nicht (oder allzu sehr oder leider) zur Gruppe der Hominiden gehörenden Art der Spammer annimmt:
Ganz konsequent lautet der Untertitel auf der Seite
Hier könnte Ihre Werbung stehen!
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