photography | carl johnson
the tant mieux project, ed. sadi ranson-polizzotti

dark road trees.jpg

 

Autumn is a time of great change, and for me, i remember Autumn in particular as a time of flux, change, and a passage, hence the image. We pass through so many passages in life, paths and routes that lead to different routes and byways - maybe we take the long-way or the byway or the detour. I always take the longway, never bothered by the detour. Maybe you too... But i always try to get where i am going, and so far, I arrive, for the most part, intact, even if, at times, my heart, yes, a little broken... but this too, in time, repairs. Or perhaps we leave it in pieces in the ground and just look at the shattered pieces as Dickenson, i believe said, for a broken heart can never truly be repaired. Maybe we have more than one heart then. More than one chance at love in life, more than one road to travel. This is my experience...There is never just one way to get from Here to There. Sometimes, the best way is the least obvious and is not even marked on the map.

 

sadi ranson-polizzotti, autumn, 2006

Sunday
Oct152006

...madness, when it's convinient.

…could it be madness this?

Oh, how you wish!

Yes, you think. I know already you.

I’ve turned it over, again and again.

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Monday
Nov082004

all of yesterday's kisses

I remember, the first in the garden Where I bled, a rose stigmata Purified and holy, a virgin?s first Blush, I burned hot with the love of you.

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Friday
Nov262004

apparition

I keep thinking i will see you. See your form as it lifts ghostly from the fog, some apparition you rise lightr and all american smiles and come to me as if in a dream because i have what you want....

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Friday
Oct292004

autumn's end

sadi ranson-polizzotti, autumn's end, poem -- november, france -- Love, the afternoon comes fast. I cannot Face it. The fading light too Quick, my hands stick the paper blank, no words spill from my pen. It is gummed up with sorrow, stuck

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Tuesday
Oct242006

Bach, in e-minor

How to accompany that?

A partita, Bach e-minor,

silver violin-string think.

Do not look for the conductor.

There is no guide but the self –

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Monday
Oct232006

because you leave

Even though it is Sunday, it is grey.

“It is raining, of course,” I say.

You: “Because you are leaving.”

It rains on awful goodbyes,

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Monday
Oct302006

birthday song

On the day I was born
The trees gave over silvered leaves
To the gale, turned their five
Fingered silvers to the sky
Grey and cumulus - no reply,

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Wednesday
Oct202004

bitter winter

All that bitter winter she was my jailer. No more than an asiatic poppy, lethal with her opium. she ran me ragged until I could run no more as if all will had left and I gave up. For months I had refused to leave

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Tuesday
Nov232004

circles | the july 24th poem

For days, i have been traveling fast circles. First, without you, the big debate Of wist and want, of right and not. We've been doing this for months And summer is on -- full hot; so much So that it's almost fall but not quite. I walk

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Thursday
Nov082007

circuit breaker

See she whose head spits spark and fire.
Behind her iris, blue bolts of lightning – a thousand volts of recognition.
See her seize, such fits!
Hands reaching; they touch nothing.
A girl wired to an E.E.G. machine;

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Wednesday
Oct182006

courage this?

On the page I am brave in this way.

The pen, the paper, easier then… we stand, united, indivisible.

Except of course… you… and you know it.

You then are different. You hide. You seek.

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Monday
Oct232006

distance - tap tap tap

Funny how quiet we are when alone.

It is the healing, the balm, alone in a crowd.

We stop. We go. We find each other.

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Saturday
Nov182006

divest

Are you really Proud to be?

or is it just me who sees that you have nothing that you want to offer –

not that you’d give me anyway.

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Friday
Nov192004

earl grey tea

I am raw lipped and softened. A magic trick: you take me to your pocket. I am lily- white and purified. Past sins absolved. The old again now new, such surprise, it is you! You come tender,

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Monday
Nov142005

for Evgenia ~ in memorium

God, that is what i want to say; just God...
Because from the depths of my disbelief i believe
and yet here i am alone, standing only barely without you,
having so carefully dug your grave, i wrapped you in
my favorite and your pink pashmina, the one you covered
with your calico-tortoise fur, the one you took to as a child
takes to a blanket - suckled, nibbled, so loved.

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Friday
Oct202006

for her - a lullaby

I try to tell you that this too will pass, realizing how trite I sound.

I have been to this place where you are– have passed through –

a ghost, i stepped in thre quagmire, the mud-thick vapor,

hard to shrug off the shroud of sorrow and regret.

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Wednesday
Nov152006

for you baby blue

Are you really Proud to be?

or is it just me who sees that you have nothing that you want to offer –

not that you’d give me anyway.

but hey, ain’t this how we play?

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Tuesday
Oct312006

gamine

Bring the spotlight back to me.

Take away that bright light; the spotlight off of you.

I’m tired of efforts to sort you out.

Impossible anyway – waste of the day.

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Thursday
Nov042004

harvest's end

It is winter and the sun arcs Sharply downward, disillusioned And cold, but brilliant. I am dazzled Blind. Today, I see -

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Monday
Nov082004

hunter's meat

Love, some other pursues Hot at our heel, he wants What you have, the things I pray you see the all of it,

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