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Their lonely betters
As I listened from a beach-chair in the shadeTo all the noises that my garden made, It seemed to me only proper that wordsShould be withheld from vegetables and birds. A robin with no Christian name ran throughThe Robin-Anthem which was all it knew, And rustling flowers for some third party waitedTo say which pairs, if any, should get mated. Not one of them was capable of lying, There was not one which knew that it was dyingOr could have with a rhythm or a rhymeAssumed responsibility for time. Let them leave language to their lonely bettersWho count some days and long for certain letters; We, too, make noises when we laugh or weep: Words…
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dvsjr nude.
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Gravity just makes you stronger.
I told her that being a single mom reminded me of steel-toed boots. In my mind it made perfect sense, in that funny speed of thought way, connecting events mercurially. In college I worked for my Dad out at the Air Force Base; All the summer help were made to wear steel-toed boots. At first they were ridiculously heavy, just walking was a chore. That first night home I sat down and marveled at how much misery they had added to my work day. The summer work days were lost in my memory, trains full of coal, replacing railroad ties. Shoveling dirt. I was fast forwarded to the end of the summer,…
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The More Loving One W.H. Auden
Looking up at the stars, I know quite wellThat, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the leastWe have to dread from man or beast.How should we like it were stars to burnWith a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. Admirer as I think I amOf stars that do not give a damn,I cannot, now I see them, sayI missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty skyAnd feel its total darkness sublime, Though this might take me…
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Love Yourself.
(blatantly stolen from my friend @lorisays) RECIPE FOR A GOOD DAY Give thanks for this day because none is promised to any of us. Give thanks for being able to see and to hear. Give thanks for being able to walk and talk. And if you are lucky enough to love and be loved, give thanks. Seek forgiveness where you need it. Give forgiveness where you can. And where you can’t, be willing to be willing. Take a moment to remember those less fortunate. Take a moment to encourage someone. Take a moment to remember how far you have come from where you have been. Take a moment to know…
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Advice to the young girl in the audience.
At one of Quentin Crisp‘s question and answer sessions in his one-man show, a girl in the audience asked ‘What is the quickest remedy for a broken heart?’ to which he replied: ‘The quickest remedy is that you must learn not to value love because it is requited. It makes no difference whether your love is returned. Your love is of value to you because you give it. It’s as though you gave me a present merely because you thought I’d give you one in return. This won’t do. If you have love to give, you give it and you give it where it is needed, but never, never ask…
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The sky from my road looking north.
– Posted from my iPhone
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WHY DO YOU STAY UP SO LATE? By Don Paterson
I’ll tell you, if you really want to know: remember that day you lost two years ago at the rockpool where you sat and played the jeweler with all those stones you’d stolen from the shore? Most of them went dark and nothing more, but sometimes one would blink the secret color it had locked up somewhere in its stony sleep. This is how you knew the ones to keep. So I collect the dull things of the day in which I see some possibility but which are dead and which have the surprise I don’t know, and I’ve no pool to help me tell– so I look at them…
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You Are There by Erica Jong
You are there. You have always been there. Even when you thought you were climbing you had already arrived. Even when you were breathing hard, you were at rest. Even then it was clear you were there. Not in our nature to know what is journey and what arrival. Even if we knew we would not admit. Even if we lived we would think we were just germinating. To live is to be uncertain. Certainty comes at the end.
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Pain is a gift.
When you were boys we ended every dinner cooked outside on the grill by toasting marshmallows. One day last year I found the perfect sticks at the supermarket. How could I not think of you? Long dowels with pointed ends wrapped in a plastic bag, despite their intended purpose they were made just for getting the marshmallows past the lip of the kettle deep towards the orange and grey coals. I bought them, brought them home. Even though I live alone. They sit, on top of my fridge, out of sight. But when I do catch a glimpse of them you’re with me, even for just a moment. – Posted…
