September 2010
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Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not...
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“When everything finds its place in my mind, I begin to no longer find...”
– Italo Calvino - Collection of Sand
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She Asked You
A girl asked you: What is poetry? You wanted to say to her: You are too, ah yes, you are and that in fear and wonder, which prove the miracle, I’m jealous of your beauty’s ripeness, and because I can’t kiss you nor sleep with you, and because I have nothing and whoever has nothing to give must sing… But you didn’t say it, you were silent and she didn’t hear...
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In A Bath Teashop
“Let us not speak, for the love we bear one another— Let us hold hands and look.” She such a very ordinary little woman; He such a thumping crook; But both, for a moment, little lower than the angels In the teashop’s ingle-nook.
John Betjeman
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No Images
She does not know Her beauty, She thinks her brown body Has no glory. If she could dance Naked Under palm trees And see her image in the river, She would know. But there are no palm trees On the street, And dish water gives back no images.
William Warin Cuney
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“At any given moment, I open my eyes and exist. And before that, during all...”
– Ugo Betti
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The Lover
My eyes want to kiss your face. I have no power over my eyes. They just want to kiss your face. I flow towards you out of my eyes, A fine heat trembles round your shoulders, It slowly dissolves your contours And I am there with you, your mouth And everywhere around you - I have no power over my eyes.
Solveig von Schoultz
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“Every day that we allow ourselves to take things for granted, every day that we...”
– John Cowper Powys - The Meaning of Culture (1929)
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Last Letter to his Wife
I am dead because I lack desire, I lack desire because I think I possess. I think I possess because I do not try to give. In trying to give, you see that you have nothing; Seeing that you have nothing, you try to give of yourself; Trying to give of yourself, you see that you are nothing: Seeing that you are nothing, you desire to become; In desiring to become, you begin to live.
René...
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“At what exact moment did the real turn into the unreal, reality into reverie?...”
– Milan Kundera - Identity
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