February 2012
4 posts
The Road Not Taken →
thatkindofwoman:
||ernestalexander||
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim,…
1 tag
“Wine makes us princes, love makes us beggars.”
– William Wycherly, The Country Wife
January 2012
3 posts
a quiet hand with a gentle sigh
a deep blanket under darkened skies
slowly moving through clever lies
a foreign lover who never dies
pyramid
each sunrise is not a new beginning
each rain is not a cleansing
you must stack your days on top of each other
only building, no tearing down
fighting with the flame
I take pleasure in gently blowing the candle
And listening to the fire struggle against the wind.
It crackles and snaps with its last blue heat
to try to stay alive before I finally extinguish it.
November 2011
2 posts
You say it makes you nervous when I stand up
I’m always moving, shifting, changing,
Trying for a better fit in a bitter cup.
I say I understand that my smoke makes you cough,
Then you sigh, moan, roll your eyes,
Tell me you’re more comfortable with the lights off.
The volume of the music grows in the night,
You like the fiddles, guitars, banjos,
But you hate that my...
the dreariness is the clouds in my drink.
the grey smell of smoke from the bonfire
persists long after the people have gone,
the lights turned off and the doors locked.
and a silence returns to the vicinity that
begins to pervade, invade my skull
until nothing else matters but the loud ringing
of nothing and of no one. colour, too, fades
away as monochrome becomes the theme.
September 2011
1 post
If you cannot be a poet, be the poem.
—David Carradine
July 2011
2 posts
We two, how long we were fool’d,
Now transmuted, we swiftly escape as Nature escapes,
We are Nature, long have we been absent, but now we return,
We are bedded in the ground, we are rocks,
We are oaks, we are two among the wild herds spontaneous as any,
We are two fishes swimming in the sea together,
We are what locust blossoms are, we drop scent around lanes mornings and...
silence…but here is no need for sound.
calm…we feel no urge to frenzy.
darkness…if you cannot see, then you must touch.
June 2011
2 posts
my toes gripped the cold, hard ledge while your fingers gently slid down my back.
below, leagues below, the water smashed against the shore and the white foam
it created lingered on the craggy rocks like your macchiato mustache.
the stupid gulls’ cries were drowned out by the gale-force wind that seemed to
call to us to jump just in case we had recently gained the gift of flight.
2 tags
“The beards of the young men glisten’d with wet, it ran from their long...”
– W.W.
May 2011
3 posts
“The only journey is the one within.”
– Rainer Maria Rilke (via fierypants)
when the breeze blew across your naked back
you got chill bumps and i mapped the topography with my fingers.
when the sunlight fell through the blinds across your legs
you felt warm and i traced your stripes like a national geographic illustrator.
when the birdsong came into the window and down to your ear
your coy smile at its beauty made me sigh with relenting joy.
when the scent of the...
when i see that sharp dividing line
that separates the green grass and the black
asphalt, i feel that such a border runs in me.
there is a division between that hard, civilized ordered
structure and the wild, soft natural freedom.
it’s not so much a struggle betwixt the two
but a carefully cultivated relationship, a simple
symbiotic life-form where each plays its role
in creating...
March 2011
1 post
“Always be a poet, even in prose.”
– Charles Baudelaire (via fierypants)
February 2011
1 post
the moment when the wind is all the music you need.
it whistles gently through the broken trees.
lying down on a bed of moss and rock,
dreaming softly of the coldness and dark.
time and space are no longer one entity,
separated by years of selfish identity,
then melting slowly back to original form.
magically twisted into one singular norm,
the veprecose thoughts of a lonely man
are...
January 2011
7 posts
“The swift red flesh, a winter king—
Who squired the glacier woman down...”
– Hart Crane, from The Bridge: II. Powhatan’s Daughter
“yes is a pleasant country:
if’s wintry
(my lovely)
let’s open the...”
– e.e. cummings
when we lie on the couch watching reruns of funny...
blanket wrapped around
sharing is caring, daring
to be not alone
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only...
a single stroke of strange light streaks across her face
she smiles as if it’s the first time
i yawn and rub my hazy eyes
waking up with her has its very own pace
a hug and a kiss as the sun lightens the mood of the room
a sigh and a giggle while i stand up to get dressed
December 2010
4 posts
the reading
He lay down on a blanket in the grass
To read a book that he had heard about
But the words, too heavy for his hands,
Sank into the earth, pulling him along.
They dragged him past society’s layers.
Nervousness grew as he neared the centre
And the intensity rose so quickly
As all of his conceptions were challenged.
His head was bombarded with new ideas,
Fascinating theories and high ideals....
“One Letter Is Enough
for Xia
one letter is enough
for me to transcend and...”
– Liu Xiaobo, the winner of the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize (via fierypants)
“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I...”
– Walt Whitman
lost in another surrender to passion.
who knows how long this shall last?
like waiting hours to take one trip on the roller coaster,
all for that brief thrill when you top the hill
and begin the descent, arms raised and breath stolen.
it will end eventually, at death if not before.
to gauge the wager, to calculate the risk
is the ongoing struggle with the romantic.
so far, so good,...
November 2010
1 post
a moment, just once
and then you were carried away.
i stood and stared at it,
that white spot that you made
in the horizon of my life.
it was too real to be a shade,
a specter of something good.
and every night when i sleep
there’s a lightness to my mood
and a hole in my thoughts.
you never even knew all of what you were or what we could have been.
you seem to have no regrets...
September 2010
2 posts
once more she found herself staring at a single drop of water
rolling down the tile.
she was only faintly aware of the heat of the shower on her back
while she stood motionless.
the drop made its way across the seams and joined others
of its kind on the rim.
the porcelain tub was her pedestal for a few more minutes
and she was the queen of water.
the water stopped and she stood up as she...
this be the verse
bringtheruckuss:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern And half at one another's throats. Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can,...
August 2010
4 posts
“Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not...”
– T.S. Eliot from Tradition and Individual Talent
you have burned my hands like the bulb i tried to change after it had just popped. it had burned for three hours then gave up the ghost. i wanted light immediately.
you have taken the wind from my lungs like when i dove into our new sandbox and thought the sweet, soft sand would give way like water.
you have made my mind swirl like the first time i read Finnegan’s Wake and sat outside...
what the thunder does
it’s nothing romantic. i don’t feel all caught up by feelings that stream from my heart for you and i and the days gone by when the summer thunder claps.
my mind races back to the days of riding horses through the pasture to check on the cows. i was a kid then. probably about 11 or 12 years old.
when you’re 3 miles away from the house and you hear that rumble come from the...
July 2010
1 post
1 tag
June 2010
3 posts
your poet once read a book on how to write poetry.
but it said nothing of sitting on the patio drinking silent wine.
it neglected the part where we make love in the park while hidden onlookers smoke cigarettes.
there was nothing of exploring the forests and climbing trees like a troop of baboons.
playing board games in the middle of our favourite dive bar received no mention.
wandering...
“I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets.”
– dh lawrence (via quellequaintrelle, libraryland)
writer's block(je t'aime)
i wrote one more line for your poem last night.
now it’s seven lines, that’s half of the way for a sonnet
and i think we may be getting a little hopeful there.
maybe just three haiku would be a more realistic goal.
i could spend the first describing the way your hair falls across your face when you’re lying on top of me and how i like it but i want to see your eyes too so i...
May 2010
3 posts
everytime i sit down to write you a letter, i pick out the choicest paper.
i make sure my pen has plenty of ink.
i turn on some soft music with only stringed instruments. the occasional piano is fine as long as it’s twinkling keys and not pounding them.
then i reread everyletter you’ve ever written me.
i get to know your personality all new and refreshed, watching your train...
April 2010
14 posts
“The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making...”
– kurt vonnegut (via quellequaintrelle) (via heylittlerichgirl)
i told you that it wasn’t going to rain. that your umbrella would not be necessary.
i was waiting out front for you and when you stepped out of the door and the umbrella was hanging from your wrist as you lit a cigarette and your wellies matched the umbrella and so did that bow that was trying to control all those curls of your hair, you looked so damned cute that there was nothing i could...