Wednesday, September 29, 2010

a Marte 208 pages

cheap gauzy curtain                                                    
drawn to the side
slightly drawn window                                          
showing pine                                                                        
the supper within                                                       plain                                                                                     
the last cottage                                                

the sign covered                                              
in something

I am dying today                                              
not tomorrow                                                   
my dying day                                                   
the television                                                        
in the livingroom                                                
the other room                                                  
on no one
is from

but it is
the sons of men
who betray them
spiegazione orale

 if the 3 vol. work etc. is
 essentially Thomistic Dantesque
 consequentially Franciscan

     then it is also

Vedantic Nohic
 consequentially Buddhistic
sed secundum quid


the ones filii heber
who are true readers
of the Book
are readers
of the inner bark
of the tree

(The last large book my father wrote and one that was never published.)

Monday, September 27, 2010


- Today Sun. August 2nd at 10:00 AM our baby girl's cry reached air - thanks be to God for such a beautiful gift. There's much to do for me now - no amount of social inaccuracy can disturb me: it's beside the point.
Claudia came earlier than we expected- her weight 6lbs they said the before her time accounts for the little weight. Dolores my beloved, may all the angels praise you for the labor that was yours. -

I'd like to go with my wife and child to a wood - with the condition that never once would we look back to see if they've caught sight of us. The intense degrees of rudeness that one has to put up with in his life would be enough to bow a soul for life, but the movement outside makes it seem as if he were whole when a truth the integument lies: he's in tears all the times.

There is failure in all of us: shall I keep on writing?

Oh, yes! I made a mistake about the time of Claudia's birth - found out for certain it was 10:42 am Anyway, she's still a before-noon baby.
The mornings and nights are getting cooler, but the afternoon's remain as hot as ever.
I do not know where any of this will take me: beginning and end are caught in the now that is contingent?

What am I doing here? feel myself wasting away under a job that says I must give thought to poetry only when there's free time - why have I allowed myself to be drawn into another injurious open market?
did I have a better choice back there?
Each day I learn a little more - but what constitutes this growth? Just that today one's older than he was yesterday - only to discover that I'm still unemployed.
In denying the contemplative life we do so in order to get the whole population into the labor field and thereby "create" an industrial hierarchy that is we are used for the purpose of holding up those on top.

To keep on writing out the diurnal only to put it aside - forever -

I wish these last moments of summer would pass away. As a child I loved winter: why? as a boy I continued in this love - again why? in my late twenties I went out to spring and summer; now in my early thirties I long for winter stirring because of the approach of spring better: I long for winter (that in those final moments of winter) ready to give way to spring - if one knew the why of the child's ache, one wouldn't have too much trouble in surmising the grown man's ache for past time; but unfortunately there are some circumstances which upon investigation reap only unknowns - by way of parenthesis, happiness is an equal brated state, it is not an acquiescence to the conditions at large that is to say, fulfillment of difference is not a condition of the material ideal. - It's indeed unusual to find myself in memory as the little boy in mackinaw and cap playing in the snow a little before 5 on a day when all its grayness seemed gathered about the heart: that is to find it cropping up so often. Is it possible that each time my responsibilities become too burdensome, an image of that forlorn little boy in the snow appears?

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Cid Corman's Review on The Prefiguration

Click on images to enlarge.
From the Chicago Review a copy through Steven Fama.
Thank you Steven.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Frank Samperi Quadrifarium

Paradiso Canto Primo

La Commedia es Forma Eterna—no arte medieval; por tanto, cualquier evaluación crítica está fuera de lugar, porque la crítica es una orientación cuyo criterio no es la liberación sino el retorno, esto es, la peregrinación es retorno pero un retorno que de ninguna manera es un aspecto de la reducción, lo que quiere decir que cualquier hombre que se aproxime a la Commedia debería aproximarse a ella humildemente, buscando adquirir esa pureza necesaria para un movimiento cuya resolución es todo lo que antes fue, es decir, el Convivio no es negación ma maggiormente giovare per questa quella.

Maraviglia sarebbe in te, se, privo
 d’impedimento, giù ti fossi assiso,

com’a terra quïete in foco vivo.

Invocación que precede el tema en una parte più e meno altrove—el recuerdo incapaz de proseguir más allá, es decir, la visión totalmente satisfecha, el lenguaje, medio para un fin, que inevitablemente se vuelve sobre sí mismo. Invocado Apolo, el Poeta revela el virgiliano all’ultimo lavoro, siendo la implicación Beatriz como guía, que resuelve el deseo épico, la canzone justificada, la metáfora prosódica de la terza rima Dal centro al cerchio, e sì dal cerchio al centro: por tanto, los cimientos paradisíacos, la proyección es el futuro, otros poetas que se mueven similarmente, relacionan, complementan.—Beatriz gira a la izquierda, mira hacia el sol: la mirada más fija que la de un águila—el Poeta, peregrino que desea el retorno, refleja la mirada, coligiendo de ella una transformación oltre nostr’uso. Tu non se’ in terra…; el tema più e meno atraído, esto es, natural, sensible, volitivo, que revela lo contemplativo, lo activo in ’l ciel sempre quïeto ne qual si volge quel c’ha maggior fretta; lo literal como aspecto de lo espiritual, no un aspecto el espíritu, el Espíritu Santo el espíritu una identificación. Puesto que la creación se inclina hacia Dios, y la materia otorgada disposta e apparecchiata, la revelación es la metáfora: la forma y la materia de creación en perfecta aquiescencia, es decir, desde el punto de vista del artista, el universo no es un impedimento.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Senno Frank Samperi from Dante's Inferno


It was wonderful to work with Alec on this dedication to my father.

Click on image to enlarge.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Morning & Evening

sobre                  On
un                         a
puente                bridge

tras                     behind
las                         branches
ramas                  an

un                       angel-
ángel                     a
un                       memory

del                      of
mar                       sea
un                       a

anhelo                longing
del                        for
hogar                 home

esparcidos          scattered
por                      by
la                        the

danza                  dance

A poem from the Morning & Evening in The Prefiguration, 1971 -
This poem comes to you translated by Mario Dominguez Parra

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Lamentations Part 2

4/6/64 - The Voyage to Japan.

A sea voyage: we're supposed to get under way at 9 pm, it it now 4:30 pm. Standing at port-hole looking out on tractors, etc, this class 3 cargo liner's teleology I am moved to turn my direction toward a troop ship (?) that dominates the right: the water's present movement is quiet, which sort of ease's even the objects most conducive toward rendering the will tortuous.
The time for getting under way has now been extended to 10 - Dolores is resting: we shall go out on deck - on out coats of course - to see the shore slowly pulling away from the ship -
Not good to make any comments for the quality of objects confronting us - the high seas should be one site vast enough to take the stress all responses. The simplicity one must at all times cultivate, so that every action humanely moved is in the blood because of a tender predisposition.
Even this writing can evince a similar structure - for instance, sitting in the lounge a picture-window holding in its defining lines a number of freight trains next the sea against mist coming from the mountains as back ground for the freight trains, one is led to pay least attention to the words around him, for the vision tends to hold where as the noise is a source of unrest: to whom?
to what? no answer for what is at bottom a line of vision. I do have some fears that this voyage is purpose may end in despair, but they are probably due to the same quality of unrest that is consequent upon noise. What has caused me to use noise as a choice metaphor? no doubt about it: the ship is at all times humming (below breathing?) the life is in the breath!
The sky passed out under the Golden Gate Bridge - we could hardly say our feeling was one of awe: it was too dark! The sea comes to my imagination in the form of a ceaseless churning of tar -
and the land falling off its sides is the piteous mask of the apparential.

(First published in the Italian Americana Volume XXI Summer 2003 - Edited by John Martone)

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Click on image to enlarge.

To Frank and Dolores and Claudia Catherine
With love Louis Zukofsky 9/10/64.

Dear Frank
Felicities - we're glad all went well. Blessings etc
One of the quotations I value most in Bottom is from Chekhov - "when I philosophize I lye terribly". Enough said if you want melody to survive. Your near distance friend can't afford free bottoms for the poor, but consoles himself found objects are lighter- and the less weight one carries the better. Free hugs all around, etc. Louis

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Louis Zukofsky - Found Objects.

A signed copy from Louis to Frank 1964.


It is good to end the volume on my beloved Dolores' birthday - true all day it has rained, but the light alone has its own way of brightening up. To continue where I left off may be the stress that next volume must resolve; however,
this much is certain: a new cadence must be heard as complement to this. The garden I've wandered thru has I hope left some fragrance of itself in my words - the light falling by degrees until all is shadows till retained by the memory
(it's revivifies) and the eyes rapt over love stare only at the sky's clearest blue.

Courtsey of The Fales Library, Special Collections, New York University

My mom's passing one year ago 9/9/2009

Dolores Samperi -1929 - 2009

now I make
my songs
for you-
I don't need
a window
at least
not the one
seeing you
and Claudia
as branch
over water
at the foot
of a hill
in morning
(From The Prefiguration)

Monday, September 6, 2010

Letters to Cid Corman


Dear Cid,

Well, I've reached bottom - I've lost another job but this time Welfare has me - What can I do?
4 years ago I was bringing in $36 a week - should've been on Welfare then, but no! I'm breaking under all this financial stress - yet I've continued to write - just finished a little prose work
(30 pages) Anti-Hero.... but I'm burdening you with my troubles -


I have a strong desire to know, but it is now certain that I'll never know the name of my father. I've never condemned my mother and father - true The Trinity is full enough to take the place of dead parents but I've always seen them as justified lovers despite conventions. I must be improving: years ago the circumstances of my birth could only be whispered. -


Well, I finally came up with a title for the 110 page book: Quadrifarium.
I'm grateful to you for allowing correspondence to take place: your letters are looked for here. You are obviously a man who holds no grudges.
Will wrote me that he's going to send The Prefiguration to Sackheim - hope Sackheim likes the work: I need a publication that'll show me to advantage. Space is important in my work: that is, I've wondered why this preoccupation with each poem a page to itself: does it stem from my fear of crowds? Also, the packed, condensed line (I understand Chinese, Japanese lines similar - of course, also, Virgil, Dante)...


You've, made me very happy - I've longed to see Morning & Evening printed since '66 - now it's done - I see it better now. Thank you for your concerned interest.


I can't believe you're writing an "essay" on The Prefiguration. Only last year I was pronounced a nervous wreck, and now this year a book and your kindness an essay.
The richness of The Prefiguration is implicit - proper names are kept at a minimum: Augustine is a figure, altho never mentioned by name: even so, simplicity is pursued as a desired end and complexity is rejected as confusion; therefore, the book is in opposition to the modern spirit, but is not out to eradicate it. -

Courtsey of The Lilly Library, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Back in my college days at SUNY Purchase I studied fine art and printing making.
One of my favorite was lithography - SUNY Purchase had a large number of lime stones for lithography.
The physicality of the printing process was accelerating and I remember many late nights in the print shop experimenting with this wonderful medium called lithography.


50 copies signed by Frank Samperi and Will Petersen.
Click on image to enlarge.

Morning & Evening - 1967

Morning & Evening - 1967

for Aunt Fran and Aunt Yolie
to repay
but the revelation
the debt

Love Frankie