#david ferry

[deadpanwalking]

Soul By David Ferry What am I doing inside this old man’s body? I feel like I’m the insides of a lobster, All thought, and all digestion, and pornographic Inquiry, and getting about, and bewilderment, And fear, avoidance of trouble, belief in what, God knows, vague memories of friends, and what They said last night, and seeing, outside of myself, From here inside myself, my waving claws Inconsequential, wavering, and my feelers Preternatural, trembling, with their amazing Troubling sensitivity to threat; And I’m aware of and embarrassed by my ways Of getting around, and my protective shell. Where is it that she I loved has gone to, as This cold sea water’s washing over my back?

[creatediana]

When Gilgamesh the king came back to the city after the victory over the demon Huwawa,

he washed the filth of battle from his hair and washed the filth of battle from his body,

put on new clothes, a clean robe and a cloak tied with a sash, and cleaned and polished the weapons

that had been bloodied with the hateful blood of the demon Huwawa, guardian of the forest,

and put a tiara on his shining hair, so that he looked as beautiful as a bridegroom.

The goddess Ishtar saw him and fell in love with the beauty of Gilgamesh and longed for his body.

"Be my lover, be my husband," she spoke and said. "Give me the seed of your body, give me your semen;

plant your seed in the body of Ishtar. Abundance will follow, riches beyond the telling:

a chariot of lapis lazuli and brass and ivory, with golden wheels,

and pulled, instead of mules, by storm beasts harnessed. Enter our house: from floor and doorpost breathes

the odor of cedar; the floor kisses your feet. Your doe goats give you triplets, your ewes also;

your chariot steeds and oxen beyond compare." Gilgamesh answered and said: "What could I offer

the queen of love in return, who lacks nothing at all? Balm for the body? The food and drink of the gods?

I have nothing to give to her who lacks nothing at all. You are the door through which the cold gets in.

You are the fire that goes out. You are the pitch that sticks to the hands of the one who carries the bucket.

You are the house that falls down. You are the shoe that pinches the foot of the wearer. The ill-made wall

that buckles when time has gone by. The leaky waterskin soaking the waterskin carrier.

Who were your lovers and bridegrooms? Tammuz the slain, whose festival wailing is heard, year after year,

under your sign. He was the first who suffered. The lovely shepherd bird whom Ishtar loved,

whose wing you broke and now wing-broken cries, lost in the darkness on the forest floor.

'My wing is broken, broken is my wing.' The lion whom you loved, strongest of beasts,

the mightiest of the forest, who fell into the calamity of the pits, the bewildering

contrivances of the goddess, seven times seven. You broke the great wild horse and snaffled him:

he drinks the water his hobbled hooves have muddied. The goatherd who brought you cakes and daily for you

slaughtered a kid, you turned him into a wolf chased away by the herdsmen, whose hairy flanks,

smelly and mangy, the guardian dogs snap at. You loved Ishullanu, your father's gardener,

who brought you figs and dates to adorn your table. You looked at him and showed yourself to him

and said: 'Now, touch me where you dare not, touch me here, touch me where you want to, touch me here.'

He said: 'Why should I eat the rotten food, having been taught to eat the wholesome food?

Why should I sin and be cursed and why should I live where the cold wind blows through the reeds upon the outcast?'

Some say the goddess turned him into a frog among the reeds, with haunted frog voice chanting,

beseeching what he no longer knows he longs for; some say into a mole whose blind foot pushes

over and over again against the loam in the dark of the tunnel, baffled and silent, forever.

And you would do with me as you did with them."

The Epic of Gilgamesh translated by David Ferry, 1992

[poem-today]

A poem by David Ferry (RIP)

Scrim

I sit here in a shelter behind the words    Of what I’m writing, looking out as if    Through a dim curtain of rain, that keeps me in here.   

The words are like a scrim upon a page,    Obscuring what might be there beyond the scrim.    I can dimly see there’s something or someone there.   

But I can’t tell if it’s God, or one of his angels,    Or the past, or future, or who it is I love,    My mother or father lost, or my lost sister,   

Or my wife lost when I was too late to get there,    I only know that there’s something, or somebody, there.    Tell me your name. How was it that I knew you?

David Ferry (1924-2003)

Listen to David Ferry read his poem

David Ferry died on November 5, 2023, at the age of 99. RIP.

[missedstations]

"i.9 / To Thaliarchus" - Horace

See Mount Soracte shining in the snow. See how the laboring overladen trees Can scarcely bear their burdens any longer. See how the streams are frozen in the cold. Bring in the wood and light the fire and open The fourth-year vintage wine in the Sabine jars. O Thaliarchus, as for everything else, Forget tomorrow. Leave it up to the gods. Once the gods have decided, the winds at sea Will quiet down, and the sea will quiet down, And these cypresses and old ash trees will shake In the storm no longer. Take everything as it comes. Put down in your books as profit every new day That Fortune allows you to have. While you’re still young, And while morose old age is far away There’s love, there are parties, there’s dancing and there’s music, There are young people out in the city squares together As evening comes on, there are whispers of lovers, there’s laughter.

Translated by David Ferry i.9 Vides ut alta stet nive candidum Soracte, nec iam sustineant onus      silvae laborantes, geluque           flumina constiterint acuto. Dissolve frigus ligna super foco large reponens atque benignius      deprome quadrimum Sabina,           o Thaliarche, merum diota. Permitte divis cetera, qui simul stravere ventos aequore fervido      deproeliantis, nec cupressi           nec veteres agitantur orni. Quid sit futurum cras fuge quaerere, et quem Fors dierum cumque dabit lucro      appone, nec dulcis amores           sperne puer neque tu choreas, donec virenti canities abest morosa. Nunc et campus et areae      lenesque sub noctem susurri           composita repetantur hora, nunc et latentis proditor intimo gratus puellae risus ab angulo      pignusque dereptum lacertis           aut digito male pertinaci.

[whisperthatruns]

Scrim

I sit here in a shelter behind the words Of what I’m writing, looking out as if Through a dim curtain of rain, that keeps me in here.

The words are like a scrim upon a page, Obscuring what might be there beyond the scrim. I can dimly see there’s something or someone there.

But I can’t tell if it’s God, or one of his angels, Or the past, or future, or who it is I love, My mother or father lost, or my lost sister.

Or my wife lost when I was too late to get there, I only know that there’s something, or somebody, there. Tell me your name. How was it that I knew you?

David Ferry (Poetry, 2009)

[ochoislas]

UNA TUMBA EN TARQUINIA

Nosotros dos, en el sofá del salón, una pareja etrusca, ciega a la nueva luz que irrumpe; sentados entre nuestras cosas, familiar y holgado el modo de vida, nada perdido aún del todo.

Saltadores y delfines adornan los muros pintados; el sol se levanta, o se pone, sobre un mar Tirreno azul; en la copa ilustrada el vino rebosa y luce; una flor desconocida abrasa con incienso mudo el aire estantío del lugar.

*

A TOMB IN TARQUINIA

The two of us, on the livingroom couch, An Etruscan couple, Blindeyed to the new light let suddenly in; Sitting among the things that belong to us, The style of living familiar and easy, Nothing yet utterly lost.

Leapers and dolphins adorn the painted walls; The sun is rising, Or setting, over a blue Tyrrhenian Sea; In the pictured cup the wine brims and glistens; An unknown flower burns with odorless incense The still air of the place.

David Ferry

di-versión©ochoislas

[noleavestoblow]

O Thaliarchus, as for everything else, Forget tomorrow. Leave it up to the gods. Once the gods have decided, the winds at sea Will quiet down, and the sea will quiet down, And these cypresses and old ash trees will shake In the storm no longer. Take everything as it comes.

-Horace (Translated from the Latin by David Ferry)

[hungeringforit]

Coffee Lips, David Ferry

The guest who came in to the street people’s suppers last night, An elderly man with a lost smart little boy’s face and a look

As if he might turn against you anytime soon, As if he’d just come into this world and he was extremely

Wary about what the world was going to be, and he said, “If I ask you a question will you give me a truthful answer?”

And I said, “That depends on what the question is,” Thinking the little elderly boy looked sophisticated and

As if he’d in fact been a long time in the world And would get the tone right, and maybe he did, or maybe he didn’t;

At any rate he went on to ask the question, “When I come into places like this and there are people holding

Coffee cups to their lips and they look at me, Are they about to drink the coffee or not to drink the coffee?”

He was balancing the world on the tip of his witty unknowing nose. I felt like I was falling down someplace else than anywhere there.

[sesiondemadrugada]

Seconds (John Frankenheimer, 1966).

[saints-who-never-existed]

Today I'm thinking about the degree to which a person is responsible for the loyalty they inspire in others.

To be more specific, I'm continuing my rewatch and thinking about the degree to which Franklin is responsible for the loyalty he has inspired in poor wee David Young.

-

Young's death is a foregone conclusion, one that's been years in the making to the point where he thinks nothing of his gruesome symptoms, yes. But his lionisation of Franklin is also a not-insignificant factor in Young neglecting to speak up about his failing health.

"I didn't want to disappoint Sir John..."

Then, as he continues to decline, Young relinquishes any semblance of bodily autonomy he ever had. He's terrified at the thought of being cut open and examined, begs for Goodsir to promise to refrain from doing so. But again, his loyalty to Franklin wins out - he trusts completely that whatever Franklin orders must be for the good of the crew.

"If Sir John orders it I will do it..."

And even as death rapidly approaches, Young isn't entirely free in his own mind either. He's an extremely vulnerable young man, little more than a child really. He's 3000 miles from home. He's dying and there isn't a thing anyone can do to stop it. He's even separated from his fellow Terrors now, friends who clearly cared for his well-being and could have been at least a small comfort to him as he passed.

Young is so so frightened and he can't even fully admit to and confront that fact because of Franklin.

"And don't tell Sir John I was afraid..."

-

I'm not sure yet what my point is really.

Young's loyalty and devotion to Franklin serves to make his death just that more desperate and traumatic than it otherwise would have been and it just feels like there ought to be consequences for that somehow. It feels like someone ought to pay for the tragedy of it all...

[deadpanwalking]

In Eden By David Ferry You lie in our bed as if an orchard were over us. You are what’s fallen from those fatal boughs. Where will we go when they send us away from here?

[krispyweiss]

Bassist Herbie Flowers, Session Musician and Former Member of T. Rex and Sky, Dies at 86

Bassist Herbie Flowers, a former member of T. Rex and Sky who played on sessions for David Bowie, Lou Reed and others, has died at 86.

His death was confirmed by Hurst Festival, where Flowers was scheduled to play later this month. No cause or date was given.

“He was an amazing person and will be missed,” festival organizers said.

A member of T. Rex and Sky, Flowers is perhaps best known for his session work, which is said to have exceeded 500 recordings by the end of the 1970s. He played alongside Elton John, Roy Harper, Al Kooper, Bryan Ferry and every Beatle save for John Lennon, with his most-famous basslines featuring in David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” and Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side.”

Through his connection to Paul McCartney, Flowers helped set in motion the events that eventually led to Laurence Juber joining Wings, the drummer said.

“He was a great bass player, a friendly fellow and an inspiration to me as an up-and-coming session player in London,” Juber wrote on social media.

Flowers was a “bass legend,” Chris Wood said. “One of the greatest bass players of all time,” is Fernando Perdomo’s assessment. And Leland Sklar mourned the man he called, simply, “the great Herbie Flowers.”

“A true legend of the instrument,” said bassist Guy Pratt. “There was only one Herbie Flowers.”

9/8/24

[silverfoxstole]

Some photos from Our Mutual Friend that are less familiar, to me at least.

I also found the one below on a Keeley Hawes fan Instagram, but unfortunately Paul has been almost cropped out of it. Annoyingly I’ve not been able to track down the full photo.

[bestofcaryelwes]

Cary in a promotional photo for 'The Informant' (1997) as Lt. David Ferris

[batmanego]

DAVID HALLER READING LIST

have you ever wanted to read a story that will make you go 'hm, i can't decide if this depiction of DID is surprisingly progressive or reductive for the time'? have you ever wanted to kill charles xavier more than you already do? have you ever just wanted to see a 14 year old be the worst person in a 100 mile radius? luckily for you i've dedicated a non insignificant amount of time and brainspace to thinking about little miss ableism, david charles haller. below the cut is a list of recommended reading for getting into him and his miserable life, links included.

LEGION: SON OF X/X-MEN LEGACY VOL. 2 this is quintessential david reading, and while it's not where david's story starts, it's where i would recommend new readers begin. it's fairly self contained and gives us the basis for a lot of his modern characterization, as well as having a depiction of david's DID that resonates a lot with me. read lsox/xml vol 2 Here.

LEGION: SHADOW KING RISING shadow king rising is also quintessential david reading, and what i would recommend new readers read second. shadow king rising collect's davids first appearances and documents his time on muir island and also that time he killed destiny! whoopsies! read it here. also, you should read this specific issue of x-men forever.

X-MEN: AGE OF APOCALYPSE PRELUDE hey, remember destiny and how david killed her? well, there were some consequences for that action. age of apocalypse prelude explores the consequences of that, notably mystique trying to kill him. also, david tries to kill magneto and kind of fucks up spectacularly. read it here.

NEW MUTANTS VOL. 3: RETURN OF LEGION david was in the otherplace. now he's back. he's not having a very good time. start here to issue 5, then issue 14 so you can see his torture chamber, and then issue 24.

X-MEN: AGE OF X david shunts everyone into an alternate dimension again, this time spurred by medical abuse! you can read this entire thing if you want here, but what's really important is.....

X-MEN: LEGACY VOL. 1 ISSUES 247-253 more age of x stuff! and also aftermath! and also lost legions! just a whole bunch of stuff for davey boy. he gets to hang out with magneto. start here, end at 253.

WAY OF X way of x is a kurt book. but david is there. i'm not the biggest fan of what's currently going on with david, but he is there. read it here.

LEGION OF X legion of x is a kurt book being billed as a david book. it's fine. i really like the judgement day issue. this is what is currently going on with david. read it here.

anyway, that's just about it for charles' firstborn and least favorite son! he's had other appearances, but these are the ones that i think are easiest to collect and are the most important for his character. happy reading!

[martini-police16]

Photo: Ebet Roberts