Panel text reads:
The War
A short time from now,
Not now, and far from yesterday,
I shall make my mathematical bow or not
To closed necessity.
I shall match my green wherewithal
With the green-gray* reality
And from this dialectical handshake will
arise
Neurosis** or influenza***.
* olive drab
** I had that already
*** I never even caught a cold
(Written at Black Mountain before going into the Army in May 1943 shortly after my 19th birthday. Footnotes added 1995)
Long After the War
It was just as Hitler feared
When his suicide fell through
They put him on display. At first
In splendid carriages they raced
From capital to capital, but the crowds
Diminished until a shabby
Circus wagon would do.
One hot day they stopped his cart
In a dusty village square
He was half mad with thirst as he saw
The pump and the tin cup there
He squatted behind the bars
A shrunken white-haired man
And asked me for a drink to slake
The devil bestride his throat.
“I remember the bodies piles
Like silver fish on a counter
Yet I might give you some water
But I remember what else you did
You stole my nineteenth year,” I said
And turned my heel in the dust
Leaving him to his thirst.
(Written in the 1970s.)
A Brancusi Sculpture
The Single egg is
Is and is only
Is found the despair
Of the gregarious adjective.
No verb speaks
Of its terrible journey
For its story is one
That admits to no retraction.
The single noun stands
Electric on the gray island
Its pivot inscribes
The wake of an earlier pivot.
No raison d’etre other
In its never spent repetition
But the lucic announcement
Which is believed only.
(Written at Black Mountain, influenced by Josef Albers. He once said, while pointing to a detail in a picture, “The beautiful has this fullness of being concerned.”)
The War
A short time from now,
Not now, and far from yesterday,
I shall make my mathematical bow or not
To closed necessity.
I shall match my green wherewithal
With the green-gray* reality
And from this dialectical handshake will
arise
Neurosis** or influenza***.
* olive drab
** I had that already
*** I never even caught a cold
(Written at Black Mountain before going into the Army in May 1943 shortly after my 19th birthday. Footnotes added 1995)
Long After the War
It was just as Hitler feared
When his suicide fell through
They put him on display. At first
In splendid carriages they raced
From capital to capital, but the crowds
Diminished until a shabby
Circus wagon would do.
One hot day they stopped his cart
In a dusty village square
He was half mad with thirst as he saw
The pump and the tin cup there
He squatted behind the bars
A shrunken white-haired man
And asked me for a drink to slake
The devil bestride his throat.
“I remember the bodies piles
Like silver fish on a counter
Yet I might give you some water
But I remember what else you did
You stole my nineteenth year,” I said
And turned my heel in the dust
Leaving him to his thirst.
(Written in the 1970s.)
A Brancusi Sculpture
The Single egg is
Is and is only
Is found the despair
Of the gregarious adjective.
No verb speaks
Of its terrible journey
For its story is one
That admits to no retraction.
The single noun stands
Electric on the gray island
Its pivot inscribes
The wake of an earlier pivot.
No raison d’etre other
In its never spent repetition
But the lucic announcement
Which is believed only.
(Written at Black Mountain, influenced by Josef Albers. He once said, while pointing to a detail in a picture, “The beautiful has this fullness of being concerned.”)
Artwork: 1995.75.1
Before and After the War
This work was created for the 1995 exhibition Remembering Black Mountain College curated by Mary Emma Harris in conjunction with Black Mountain College Museum + Arts Center and the BMC alumni reunion organized by Mary Holden Thompson, founding director of BMCM+AC.
24 x 18 inches
In copyright
Gift of Ralph Tyler
Ralph Tyler, Before and After the War, 1995. Printed paper on foam board. Collection of Black Mountain College Museum + Arts Center. Gift of the artist.
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