Comments on: http://www.lorenwebster.net/In_a_Dark_Time/2006/03/07/rexroth%e2%80%99s-%e2%80%9cautumn-in-california%e2%80%9d/ Sat, 31 Jul 2010 04:31:48 -0400 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0 By: loren http://www.lorenwebster.net/In_a_Dark_Time/2006/03/07/rexroth%e2%80%99s-%e2%80%9cautumn-in-california%e2%80%9d/comment-page-1/#comment-5138 loren Tue, 07 Mar 2006 17:08:27 +0000 http://www.lorenwebster.net/In_a_Dark_Time/2006/03/07/rexroth%e2%80%99s-%e2%80%9cautumn-in-california%e2%80%9d/#comment-5138 I've never read Poets on the Peaks. There's another book I'll have to read when I get a chance, Mike. I’ve never read Poets on the Peaks. There’s another book I’ll have to read when I get a chance, Mike.

]]> By: mike http://www.lorenwebster.net/In_a_Dark_Time/2006/03/07/rexroth%e2%80%99s-%e2%80%9cautumn-in-california%e2%80%9d/comment-page-1/#comment-5135 mike Tue, 07 Mar 2006 15:33:52 +0000 http://www.lorenwebster.net/In_a_Dark_Time/2006/03/07/rexroth%e2%80%99s-%e2%80%9cautumn-in-california%e2%80%9d/#comment-5135 Rexroth--always the classicist, even in his actual skin--never forgot Tu Fu (Blue is the smoke of war. White are the bones of men, 4th Century BC) nor the Romans and Greeks who preceded us in seeing the ironies of human cruelty delivered in war with more sincerity than a birthday gift to a good brother. For perspective on this perspective, other than say, Isaiah, I like reading about Gary Snyder and Philip Whalen in Poets on the Peaks, and Yeats, of course, and Rexroth himself, in a more forgetful vein, just recalling a lustful afternoon in a canoe with a lover, or in pure reverence looking out over Mt. Tamalpais. I think it is probably OK to spend some time in the zen connection to the raw power of being, breathing. In that spirit, it is hard not to honor Wallace Stevens who wrote, "Children picking up our bones/will never know that these were once/as quick as foxes on the hills...." Postcard from the Volcano. Rexroth–always the classicist, even in his actual skin–never forgot Tu Fu (Blue is the smoke of war. White are the bones of men, 4th Century BC) nor the Romans and Greeks who preceded us in seeing the ironies of human cruelty delivered in war with more sincerity than a birthday gift to a good brother.

For perspective on this perspective, other than say, Isaiah, I like reading about Gary Snyder and Philip Whalen in Poets on the Peaks, and Yeats, of course, and Rexroth himself, in a more forgetful vein, just recalling a lustful afternoon in a canoe with a lover, or in pure reverence looking out over Mt. Tamalpais. I think it is probably OK to spend some time in the zen connection to the raw power of being, breathing. In that spirit, it is hard not to honor Wallace Stevens who wrote, “Children picking up our bones/will never know that these were once/as quick as foxes on the hills….” Postcard from the Volcano.

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