This is all for me, but anyway . . .IS/NOT |
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Is/Not
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Love is not a professiongenteel or otherwisesex is not dentistrythe slick filling of aches and cavitiesyou are not my doctoryou are not my cure,nobody ha...
Posted by on Mon, 15 Oct 2007 22:47:00 GMT |
DIE SLOWLY |
Die Slowly
He who becomes the slave of habit, who follows the same routes every day, who never changes pace, who does not risk and change the color of his clothes, who does not speak and does not expe...
Posted by on Sun, 30 Sep 2007 10:33:00 GMT |
Never to busy to read . . . to live by things like this . . . |
On Living Well . . .
"If I love something I do it, and if I don't, I don't. I think that this is the most important choice that any of us can make in life, in art, in history; to do the thing you...
Posted by on Sat, 29 Sep 2007 16:37:00 GMT |
A POSTCARD |
Postcard
I'm thinking of you. What else can I say?The palm trees on the reverseare a delusion; so is the pink sand.What we have are the usualfractured coke bottles and the smellof backed-up drains, ...
Posted by on Mon, 24 Sep 2007 21:49:00 GMT |
Jewel - An amazing POET . . |
I Am Not From HereI am not from here,my hair smells of the windand is full of constellationsand I move about this worldwith a healthy disbeliefand approach my days and my workwith vaporous consequence...
Posted by on Tue, 18 Sep 2007 21:16:00 GMT |
Another really great Atwood poem |
MORE AND MORE
More and more frequently the edgesof me dissolve and I becomea wish to assimilate the world, includingyou, if possible through the skinlike a cool plant's tricks with oxygenand live by a...
Posted by on Wed, 05 Sep 2007 21:43:00 GMT |
Gentlman Alone - Neruda always says things so well . . . |
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Gentleman Alone
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The young maricones and the horny muchachas,The big fat widows delirious from insomnia,The young wives thirty hours' pregnant,And the hoarse tom...
Posted by on Fri, 31 Aug 2007 16:28:00 GMT |
Touch - a translation |
Touch My hands open the curtains of your being clothe you in a further nudity uncover the bodies of your body My hands invent another body for your body Octavio Paz Translation by Eliot Weinberger
Posted by on Tue, 28 Aug 2007 11:29:00 GMT |
PAIRS OF SHOES |
Pairs of Shoes My future lives come to me in dreams Come silently with torn soles. I am like a skilled shoemaker Greeting the wandering breath of these feet. These dreams-my other selves Sprawl out to...
Posted by on Wed, 20 Jun 2007 21:09:00 GMT |
She Walks in Beauty . . . This Day's POEM! |
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She Walks in Beauty
by George Gordon, Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect a...
Posted by on Sat, 09 Jun 2007 14:40:00 GMT |
