tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post931325815849020526..comments2023-05-21T13:48:40.461+02:00Comments on The Alchemist's Pillow: Festina lenteLorenzo — Alchemist's Pillowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07522265816460154722noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-51015502171672936512013-03-01T22:06:16.092+01:002013-03-01T22:06:16.092+01:00Yes.
If we don't learn the lessons of history ...Yes.<br />If we don't learn the lessons of history we are doomed to repeat them. As in Gaza. Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17835732216182273390noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-29400350797683863822012-10-14T20:51:51.427+02:002012-10-14T20:51:51.427+02:00Yes, pilgrims on the way to Santiago also place st...Yes, pilgrims on the way to Santiago also place stones on top of milestones etc. <br /><br />I hope you can visit Palestine one day and honour the dead there....it's something we all should do....Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-12952473246104855662011-11-24T05:08:43.794+01:002011-11-24T05:08:43.794+01:00Thank you for this, Lorenzo. Beautiful work.Thank you for this, Lorenzo. Beautiful work.*https://www.blogger.com/profile/06484208765656281917noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-16854160252267261162011-11-22T02:56:58.242+01:002011-11-22T02:56:58.242+01:00In placing the stone you are remembering the dead....In placing the stone you are remembering the dead. And you did so in such a thoughtful, respectful way.<br /><br />My first feeling on seeing the photos of the graves was surprise that they were there. I know of course that not every cemetery was defaced and torn up by the Nazis and their collaborators but many were.<br /><br />Just this weekend I finished reading <i>Hasidic Tales of the Holocaust</i> in which historian Yaffa Eliach (herself a Holocaust survivor) compiled stories and reflections based on interviews and mealtime discussions by Hasidic Jews who survived the Holocaust. And the book showed me, yet again, how people use words, narratives to respond to tragedy and to convey hope and endurance in the face of horror. I think of this after reading the lines of your poem: <i>My own pebble is hewed<br />from poems I never learned</i><br />There are words and poems all around, and then people come along and give voice to them.HKatzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17653570160517335758noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-38078885538556115882011-11-19T18:44:55.208+01:002011-11-19T18:44:55.208+01:00Sweet, sweet Jesus, Lorenzo. Thank you for this. I...Sweet, sweet Jesus, Lorenzo. Thank you for this. I am speechless - yet full of choked speech. You are a fine poet, my friend.The Solitary Walkerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11284354541952038339noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-66255205969950788582011-11-17T05:51:45.900+01:002011-11-17T05:51:45.900+01:00how beautiful this is, Lorenzo, the poem itself a ...how beautiful this is, Lorenzo, the poem itself a stone necklace--xxxxjJenne' R. Andrews https://www.blogger.com/profile/15744946229300234443noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-65642777015856707212011-11-16T00:53:36.410+01:002011-11-16T00:53:36.410+01:00Very moving, Lorenzo, your words, your sensitivity...Very moving, Lorenzo, your words, your sensitivity, your presence, and your willingness to move body and soul into a place beyond comprehension.Georgehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03959953035812596907noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-41141466728746590822011-11-15T12:21:15.548+01:002011-11-15T12:21:15.548+01:00Your words have moved me very much. I once visited...Your words have moved me very much. I once visited the tiny Jewish Cemetery in the Prague Ghetto, where the grave stones are so crowded together and almost haphazard that it is as though an an attempt was being made to confine them in death as they were confined in life -- and thousands and thousands of pebbles and tiny pieces of paper inscribed with prayers.The Broadhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04976467218216864644noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-26534409579259297062011-11-15T02:00:38.489+01:002011-11-15T02:00:38.489+01:00perhaps nothing exemplifies better the beyond lang...perhaps nothing exemplifies better<i> the beyond language</i> but a stone. perhaps, a river, or the wind, or fire, or light, or, ironically, a poem.)))<br /><br />these places are beyond all human understanding, i think, but demand witness nonetheless. you have witnessed for us all. thank you. (and so we must keep witnessing.)<br /><br />xo<br />erinerinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16636371927224076866noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-58284277661027420682011-11-14T21:08:01.383+01:002011-11-14T21:08:01.383+01:00Such a beautiful and thoughtful poem. The imagery ...Such a beautiful and thoughtful poem. The imagery drew me in completely. Thank you again, Lorenzo.Margarethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07197591307149394913noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-45418446480658333252011-11-13T23:49:36.432+01:002011-11-13T23:49:36.432+01:00powerful and poignant poem....
very fond of this:...powerful and poignant poem....<br /><br />very fond of this:<br /><br />My own pebble is hewed<br />from poems I never learned<br /><br />but have always known<br />yet fear I will not sing.mouse (aka kimy)https://www.blogger.com/profile/09385557065971602436noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-14472481768035004492011-11-13T22:22:02.971+01:002011-11-13T22:22:02.971+01:00the stone is a symbol of remembrance...we were her...the stone is a symbol of remembrance...we were here and you are not forgotten. I love that particular tradition. I also like the one at Jewish funerals when the mourners shovel the dirt in and on the casket. that last final act of love, drawing up the last blanket. It is infinitely more satisfying to me than the christian custom of saying a few prayers and then leaving the casket there to be lowered alone and buried by strangers.ellen abbotthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00535475792150335186noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-11719841132970371992011-11-13T09:19:26.397+01:002011-11-13T09:19:26.397+01:00I'm not a religious person, or even a spiritua...I'm not a religious person, or even a spiritual person but understand the urge and respect paid when visiting foreign climes. I've done the same in the past. It just seems like the respectful and courteous thing to do. I think the placing of stones is a wonderful and lasting commemoration, showing that whoever lies beneath hasn't been forgotten.Bainohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14156193098088048637noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-39509098802149558002011-11-13T01:40:17.718+01:002011-11-13T01:40:17.718+01:00repeating a rite felt more
than understood,
Truly...repeating a rite felt more<br />than understood,<br /><br />Truly... I often think that "feeling" of connection is the most powerful of prayers. The whole poem is so moving and I love how your start it with ..."My bare Christian head". I adore and believe in the idea of <br /><br />"the stranger who today<br />for some reason<br /><br />has chosen me<br />to remember him..."<br /><br />Beautiful and a poem that causes much reflection.Margarethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00007201357693227614noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-69356689265174784142011-11-12T23:32:57.648+01:002011-11-12T23:32:57.648+01:00Powerful, evocative, moving...Powerful, evocative, moving...Berownehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09524661173663604641noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-36327623313271586682011-11-12T22:31:15.691+01:002011-11-12T22:31:15.691+01:00Beautiful and so very evocative. I especially like...Beautiful and so very evocative. I especially like "...sliver of space between molten lead and frozen mercury". It's wonderful to see you at Magpie Tales, LLL!Tess Kincaidhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04889725786678984293noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-38970375022685161742011-11-12T21:59:55.423+01:002011-11-12T21:59:55.423+01:00Thank you, Lorenzo. This is memorable.Thank you, Lorenzo. This is memorable.Kathryn Stripling Byerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17867152753841610044noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-62717739546209541382011-11-12T16:31:53.174+01:002011-11-12T16:31:53.174+01:00"... in each stone a word embalmed / (in the ..."... in each stone a word embalmed / (in the beginning was the word).... That you placed the second line of the couplet in parentheses seems so movingly fitting, for in that place at the time of which you write the Word seemed lost and yet gave hope. <br /><br />I have always been moved by seeing stones placed atop grave markers. It's a wonderful custom to honor the dead by leaving a token made from God's earth.<br /><br />Beautiful post, Lorenzo!Maureenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13290283101378474845noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-57562800000721259622011-11-12T16:00:23.896+01:002011-11-12T16:00:23.896+01:00So so beautiful. You clinked your small chalice in...So so beautiful. You clinked your small chalice in salute and generations smiled. The best rites are those more felt than understood, perhaps, and we feel with you and through you and your exquisite images, perfect language. Thank you Lorenzo.dshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07616750784052488695noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-82970665788821298422011-11-12T15:51:08.909+01:002011-11-12T15:51:08.909+01:00nice...great play on the prompt...have missed your...nice...great play on the prompt...have missed your words so it was quite a treat...i grew up with a family cemetary in the back yard...a constant reminder...a place i played, contemplated and wrote...this was thoughtfully rendered...nice...Brian Millerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00722940075884718007noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-68969548838453615292011-11-12T15:08:07.120+01:002011-11-12T15:08:07.120+01:00this is breathtaking, lorenzo, both your words and...this is breathtaking, lorenzo, both your words and images. this past summer i was visiting a dear friend in israel and she took me to the kibbutz of her birth. before we left, we visited the graves of her grandparents, who founded the kibbutz and i remember watching in reverence as she picked up a stone and placed it on her grandmother's headstone. she explained the custom to me, as you do so eloquently here.<br /><br />you say: repeating a rite felt more than understood......to me, feeling a rite is the deeper communion, as some things are perhaps not meant to be completely understood. <br /><br />i am deeply moved by the way you have honored this individual's soul, both in the words of this exquisite poem and in the profoundly felt alchemy of stone upon stone.Amanda Summerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00942636545948440422noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308428467776400130.post-10919088418288930802011-11-12T11:09:24.826+01:002011-11-12T11:09:24.826+01:00When I think of festina lente, and making haste, s...When I think of <i>festina lente</i>, and <i>making haste, slowly</i>, I think of walking, and not riding in anything motorized. So strolling through a cemetery strikes me as the perfect way to move forward, while paying attention, and allowing the horrors of that history out of time to be absorbed in you. Maybe it’s why you, Robert and George do your caminos: you walk and bring together the world’s tensions into a realm of mind and heart that somehow redeems them and makes them whole again.<br /><br />But your beautiful poem leaves me with the mystery: Can these horrors be redeemed? You offer many ways to absorb the tensions of life and death, [undecipherable] horror and [perhaps hidden] beauty. That couplet of the pebble necklaces is such a perfect image, I can see them lined up across the cemetery’s headstones, as if laid on a bed’s headboard just for the night. (They remind me of the locks you see now on bridges in the cities of the world, where lovers leave symbols of commitment.)<br /><br />. . .<i>flint chalices</i> clinking (!) the alchemy of lead and mercury . . . all your imagery is wonderful, leading to what? to no answers, no words, nothing decipherable to say, but you felt it, and your pebble spoke for you and was joined with the all the others, transformed in the alchemy of your heart into the magic mystery of a gentle fire. This is what you do, and you wrote it in words that leave me with the feeling that there were no words, only feeling.Ruthhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14204074161539605133noreply@blogger.com