 Ted Hughes and Plath reading Lady Lazarus but both at different times? Can you make this downloadable? 

Poema: Karen Debértolis
Direção: José Augusto Mannis
Criação sonora: José Augusto Mannis, Janete El Haouli e Karen Debértolis
Vozes : Karen Debértolis, Janete El Haouli, Samara Azevedo e João Armando Fabbro
Citação musical: Phillip Glass
Peça produzida durante a Oficina Invenções Radiofônicas realizada na TOCA, Londrina, julho de 2013

O mapeamento dos dias

text by Franz Kafka
voice and sound editing | Ygor Raduy

The bridge | Kafka | reading Ygor Raduy

The Snow Man
by Wallace Stevens

One must have a mind of winter 
To regard the frost and the boughs 
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time 
To behold the junipers shagged with ice, 
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think 
Of any misery in the sound of the wind, 
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land 
Full of the same wind 
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow, 
And, nothing himself, beholds 
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

The Snow Man, by Wallace Stevens, Read by David J. Bauman

BLACKBERRY EATING
Galway Kinnell

I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths and squinched,
many-lettered, on-syllabled lumps,
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackberry-eating in late September.

.....

"Blackberry Eating" from Mortal Acts, Mortal Words by Galway Kinnell. Copyright © 1980. 

Blackberry Eating, by Galway Kinnell, read by David J. Bauman

I was experimenting here with a new microphone. No audio adjustments made here after the fact. 

In the workshop at the library tonight we are writing villanelles. It's a very strict French form, and though this is the most rigid of the three examples that we studied, there is still a lot of variation on how the repeated phrases are used. Those variations are handled mostly by punctuation to differentiate whether the repeated lines are spoken as commands or descriptions of the actions of others. And in the final lines they seem more like pleas than commands to me. 

A lot of traditional readings of this seem to focus chiefly on the meter. I was attempting to follow the meter, while using the poet's punctuation as guidelines to keep me from breaking up the sense of the sentences. 

Mostly this is an experiment and learning experience for me more than anything else. Please let me know your thoughts. 

Here is the text of the poem:

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

©1937 by Dylan Thomas

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night, by Dylan Thomas, Read by David J. Bauman



Recently, on his facebook feed, Richard Blanco shared three poems by Ada Limón from the online journal, Compose.

"We Are Surprised" is the first of the three, and I fell desperately in love with it, probably because I met this poem at just the right time, while I am learning this new way of living with the world, inside me.

Here is the link to the text: composejournal.com/articles/ada-limon-three-poems/

Image also from Compose, a Journal of Simply Good Writing


We Are Surprised, a poem by Ada Limón, read by David J. Bauman

O Porto Suspenso | texto e experimento sonoro Ygor Raduy

Lady Lazarus | Sylvia Plath | poetry reading

Astrodisco  "Itapema"   (Daus Mix)

Projeto da escritora paranaense Karen Debértolis que estabelece um diálogo entre a poesia e a música. 

Tratado sobre o silêncio

letra: Karen Debértolis / música : Julio Anizeli


O silêncio dói muito mais na pele do inimigo que o grito.
Pousa, assim, cálido,
como uma resposta sem pontuação.
Deita suave nas concavidades do ouvido.
Desconserta.
Desmancha certezas.
Hospeda pulgas atrás da orelha.
Arma afiada
Toque lancinante
Estratégia zen
Linguagem dos deuses da arte da guerra.

Karen Debértolis - Tratado sobre o silêncio

Projeto da escritora paranaense Karen Debértolis que estabelece um diálogo entre a poesia e a música. 

A Morte

letra: Karen Debértolis / música: Bruno Morais/Rafael Fuca/Mizão


A morte não deveria aproximar-se antes que tivéssemos mais de cem mil fios de cabelos brancos. Deveria ficar a distância. Cem mil fios de cabelos brancos são demais para uma mulher. Da morte, em grande parte do tempo, temos apenas um vislumbre, uma visagem. Não que tenhamos mais olhos para a vida. Não temos olhos, simplesmente. Não que sejamos cegos, teríamos neste caso, vistas táteis, mais potentes. Mas, não é bem isso. Não vemos, os olhos são apenas vidros coloridos. Assim, a morte é a única hora do espanto - o único momento ampliado da visão - é a claridade solar.

Lady Lazarus | Sylvia Plath | poetry reading

ygor raduy

Recent comments

octopuii

Related tracks