Tag Archives: poem

When all my words have been stolen by the waking hours

Keeping Quiet Pablo Neruda (trans. Alastair Reid.) And now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still. For once on the face of the earth let’s not speak in any language, let’s stop for one second, and … Continue reading

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The gifts of solitude

“Make your ego porous. Will is of little importance, complaining is nothing, fame is nothing. Openness, patience, receptivity, solitude is everything.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke “The WPA was a national program that operated its own projects in cooperation with state … Continue reading

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In the echoes of others’ words

“The aspects of things that are most important for us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity. (One is unable to notice something — because it is always before one’s eyes.) The real foundations of his enquiry do not strike … Continue reading

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Friday poetry

a little ditty from Rilke Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower Quiet friend who has come so far, feel how your breathing makes more space around you. Let this darkness be a bell tower and you the bell. As … Continue reading

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Have legs, will amble

It’s that time again, for branches to emerge as spindly remembrances of their former, leafy selves. No doubt some of the former fall foliage was blown away by the storms of the past fortnight… This, taken just days after Sandy … Continue reading

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time…

…is a funny thing. Not “haha” funny, more like “ain’t that a damn shame” kind of funny… The kind that leads one to drink or cry rather than belly laugh or giggle (and if one is belly laughing or giggling, … Continue reading

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Sand(y)storm

I admit it. When I first saw the email telling me that our university, like so many other institutions on the eastern seaboard, was closed, I experienced a distinct burst of giddiness. A day “off” is the thought I dared … Continue reading

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Our eyes are always adjusting

Charlie Chaplin was supposed to be performing silly gestures on the large screen in the auditorium. At least that’s what my classmates and I had been told by our teacher about the movie we were watching just before the winter … Continue reading

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friday poem break

Between Going and Coming by Octavio Paz Between going and staying the day wavers, in love with its own transparency. The circular afternoon is now a bay where the world in stillness rocks. All is visible and all elusive, all … Continue reading

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Size matters

When Y asked me to reflect on what elements or affordances characterized this past year as simply sublime, I was momentarily rendered speechless. Everything, I wanted to say – that is to say, nothing: no appointments on my calendar for … Continue reading

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of poets and friends

“The poet speaks only those thoughts that come unbidden, like the wind that stirs the trees, and men cannot help but listen. He is not listened to, but heard.”

Thoreau, May 6, 1841, Journal

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i miss…

the brollies and the wellies, greens, parks, squares, and closes, rain mist so fine you won’t need that facial appointment, (nor the aforementioned brolly), because the sun will be shining soon enough. just wait. (and we/they do.) a ten-minute, guilt-free … Continue reading

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“We only know that to live is to live for.”

Much in the same way that the writings of Transtromer and Calvino found their way onto the dashboard of my mind’s eye, so, too, have the words of Paz once again surfaced and made themselves known. This time, they were … Continue reading

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poem discovery

i thank proustitute for the link to this one. oh the places i’ve already been taken… apparently, i was wrong. this link did not come from whence i thought it did… how, indeed, do we stumble onto the texts that … Continue reading

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poetic interlude, another

A Walk My eyes already touch the sunny hill, going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; it has its inner light, even from a distance—- and changes us, even … Continue reading

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