Wednesday, November 28
". . . as I have said often enough, I write for myself in multiplicate,
In the dark we disappear, pure being.
Our mirror images, impure being.
Being and becoming (Heidegger), being and
nothingness (Sartre) - which is purer being?
Being alone is no way to be: thus
loneliness is the test of pure being.
Nights in love I fell too far or not quite
far enough - one pure, one impure being.
Clouds, snow, mist, the dragon's breath on water,
smoke from fire - a metaphor's pure being.
Stillness and more stillness and the light locked
deep inside - both pure and impure being.
Is is the verb of being, I the noun -
or pronoun for the purists of being.
I was, I am, I looked within and saw
nothing very clearly: purest being.
- Stanley Plumly
a not unfamiliar phenomenon on the
horizon of shimmering deserts."
- Vladimir Nabokov