Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#transmission
Radio Poem by Bertolt Brecht loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch You, little box, held tightly to me, while escaping, so that your delicate tubes do not break; carried from house to house, from ship to train, so that my enemies may continue communicating with me on land and at sea and even in my bed, to my pain; the last thing I hear at night, the first thing when I awake, recounting their many conquests and my cares, promise me not to go silent all of a sudden, unawares. Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, German, translation, Holocaust, poem, radio, tubes, valves, transmission, communicate, communication, communicating, land, sea, bed, night, sleep, dawn, morning, awake, awakening, conquests, victories, triumphs, cares, losses, silence, silent Bertolt Brecht Epigrams and Quotations These are my modern English translations of epigrams and quotations by Bertolt Brecht. Everyone chases the way happiness feels, unaware how it nips at their heels. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The world of learning takes a crazy turn when teachers are taught to discern! — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Unhappy, the land that lacks heroes. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Hungry man, reach for the book: it's a hook, a harpoon. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Because things are the way they are, things can never stay as they were. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch War is like love; true ... it finds a way through. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch What happens to the hole when the cheese is no longer whole? — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch It is easier to rob by setting up a bank than by threatening the poor clerk. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Do not fear death so much, or strife, but rather fear the inadequate life. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, translation, translations, German, modern English, epigram, epigrams, quote, quotes, quotations
0
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 4:27 AM UTC
Bertolt Brecht "Radio Poem" translation
Radio Poem by Bertolt Brecht loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch You, little box, held tightly to me, while escaping, so that your delicate tubes do not break; carried from house to house, from ship to train, so that my enemies may continue communicating with me on land and at sea and even in my bed, to my pain; the last thing I hear at night, the first thing when I awake, recounting their many conquests and my cares, promise me not to go silent all of a sudden, unawares. Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, German, translation, Holocaust, poem, radio, tubes, valves, transmission, communicate, communication, communicating, land, sea, bed, night, sleep, dawn, morning, awake, awakening, conquests, victories, triumphs, cares, losses, silence, silent Bertolt Brecht Epigrams and Quotations These are my modern English translations of epigrams and quotations by Bertolt Brecht. Everyone chases the way happiness feels, unaware how it nips at their heels. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch The world of learning takes a crazy turn when teachers are taught to discern! — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Unhappy, the land that lacks heroes. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Hungry man, reach for the book: it's a hook, a harpoon. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Because things are the way they are, things can never stay as they were. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch War is like love; true ... it finds a way through. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch What happens to the hole when the cheese is no longer whole? — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch It is easier to rob by setting up a bank than by threatening the poor clerk. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Do not fear death so much, or strife, but rather fear the inadequate life. — loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Bertolt Brecht, translation, translations, German, modern English, epigram, epigrams, quote, quotes, quotations
Continue reading...
46
The Fidelity of Transmissions ”Cells, the units of life that compose our bodies, are able to make copies of themselves to help us grow, fight disease and recover from injuries. Cells have built-in mechanisms that maintain   the fidelity of transmission   of genetic information from one generation to the next, and to control cell division in a timely manner, allowing our bodies to build or rebuild various tissues.” ~~~ when the poetry cri de cœur grows unbearable , sound mystery-science calms his tumbling transcendency alas, here too, his ears sit up straight when stumbling on a invitation to “come write,” for hid within the science jargon, oft rests a snipers shot redirecting the didactic mind back to the everyman’s land where-poetry cells split,, commanding him to delve into, visit new brain wrenching vistas “the fidelity of transmission” at its macro level, for science is micro-poetry,^ n’est-ce pas ~~~ when you love another the transmission is a slow pour, or a radical jarring, the fidelity extremely extraordinarily variable the loveliest unpredictable the sip sip of eyelid kissing adoration, the irrational irrigation of the no-space-between, when the television remote disappears in the couch crack, the screen, complete static, perfect complement, to a rigorous experiment of the loveliest unpredictable we manually conjoin fluids in her mouth’s petri dish, stain the slide for observation, in full Imax color observe the cells busting and doesy-do’ing over to a new partner, where bonds of fidelity attach a partnership clause to the loveliest unpredictable when a child emerges, the first words are find that remote, just kidding, first comes a comestible demand, mother’s milk 98 degree heated, feed me a white solution to any unanswered cell’s questions, what a loving predictive predicate scribble this, ****** that, change a diaper, while debating whose baby’s assemblage resembles, overjoyed at the experimental outcome, proofs of the fidelity of transmission, the outcome notated, but science demands no bias confirmation, another test required of tissue rebuilding the loveliest unpredictable ~~~ ^postscript for is He not laureate greatest poet of all, developer of the scientific architecture, inventor of varietal sunsets, moonscapes, individualized singularity of snowflakes, love making, gravity and the preprogrammed death of your own cells, etcetera etcetera etcetera all just poetry in motion in fluidity, ah, fidelity fidelity fidelity
0
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 9:54 AM UTC
The Fidelity of Transmission (the loveliest unpredictable)
The Fidelity of Transmissions ”Cells, the units of life that compose our bodies, are able to make copies of themselves to help us grow, fight disease and recover from injuries. Cells have built-in mechanisms that maintain   the fidelity of transmission   of genetic information from one generation to the next, and to control cell division in a timely manner, allowing our bodies to build or rebuild various tissues.” ~~~ when the poetry cri de cœur grows unbearable , sound mystery-science calms his tumbling transcendency alas, here too, his ears sit up straight when stumbling on a invitation to “come write,” for hid within the science jargon, oft rests a snipers shot redirecting the didactic mind back to the everyman’s land where-poetry cells split,, commanding him to delve into, visit new brain wrenching vistas “the fidelity of transmission” at its macro level, for science is micro-poetry,^ n’est-ce pas ~~~ when you love another the transmission is a slow pour, or a radical jarring, the fidelity extremely extraordinarily variable the loveliest unpredictable the sip sip of eyelid kissing adoration, the irrational irrigation of the no-space-between, when the television remote disappears in the couch crack, the screen, complete static, perfect complement, to a rigorous experiment of the loveliest unpredictable we manually conjoin fluids in her mouth’s petri dish, stain the slide for observation, in full Imax color observe the cells busting and doesy-do’ing over to a new partner, where bonds of fidelity attach a partnership clause to the loveliest unpredictable when a child emerges, the first words are find that remote, just kidding, first comes a comestible demand, mother’s milk 98 degree heated, feed me a white solution to any unanswered cell’s questions, what a loving predictive predicate scribble this, ****** that, change a diaper, while debating whose baby’s assemblage resembles, overjoyed at the experimental outcome, proofs of the fidelity of transmission, the outcome notated, but science demands no bias confirmation, another test required of tissue rebuilding the loveliest unpredictable ~~~ ^postscript for is He not laureate greatest poet of all, developer of the scientific architecture, inventor of varietal sunsets, moonscapes, individualized singularity of snowflakes, love making, gravity and the preprogrammed death of your own cells, etcetera etcetera etcetera all just poetry in motion in fluidity, ah, fidelity fidelity fidelity
Continue reading...
55
easy on the transmission she says and i feel skin on my hand i breathe a little think of your happy place she says and i see waves and palm trees where are you she says and i say the beach you hate the beach she says and i nod in agreement
0
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 8:06 PM UTC
the pill that takes the fear of death away
It was born small, A drop of water in a tub of oil, But the inevitable happened: It grew, It engulfed me, Like an infinite sclera. A distorted mirror, Some part of me Knew it was false, But the tendrils of transformation Restrained me, It hurt, But it was also pure ecstasy. Now I cannot reject its pleasure, I now know who I am, The tendrils guided me, At a small cost of ignorant bliss, I now know who I am, I am Chelsea Krona.
0
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
Transformation
No more tangled mess. Gone are the many days of remorse. Here lie the final words. I'm done. Goodbye
0
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
Letter to the Flowers
Wanted to write fluently About million worlds With beautiful wovs. I couldn't. There's a dark pressure In gloom. Doomed mind. They do. Me. I'm transmitting. Harmonies. Cacophony. Endless caches.
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC
Add A Vow Dear