JANUS FACED REDS AND BLUES

It has been a great day. This afternoon listening again to recordings of the likes of Richard Harris and Richard Burton. Their spoken words spoke more than mere words as they shared an expressive emotion and demanded both affection and angst. As a New Year celebration rightly makes a carnival it also rightly fills us with lost memories. The acts of Harris and Burton reciting poetry reminds me of Dusty Springfield singing a song about " I'm Going Back". Going back too to those times when I knew so well in my youth. The Janus face here looks backwards with love and still yet direction. I cannot revive Richard Burton from the grave but i do still play his LP recordings. So, with this in mind I do, before I drop or droop under the heavy influences of New Year plonks, I do try to present a short edited version from one Erich Heller from his book called "The Disinherited Mind". I quote :-

Listener : Stop. Poetry is not dead.
Speaker : Nor is true order. But all signs, and above all the signs of poetry, point towards a grave disturbance.
Listener : We cannot go back to your single-minded symbolic order of the Middle Ages.
Speaker : Clearly not. But from this it does not follow that we must rush forward. The order is neither behind us nor before us. It is, or it is not. The sensible movement is in another dimension.
Listener : I wonder.
Speaker : So do I. Maybe we differ only in degrees of wonder.

Happy New Year to you all that suffer and have fun with both lark and cactus.