August 31, 2017 – 9:57 pm
WHAT THE SOUL WANTS A horse made out of rain (it doesn’t need a blacksmith). A fret of dragonflies, the thin gloss of their wings. A yellow bicycle. Outside the door a tall coffee can full of sand for the soul’s gritty habits. A place where trees are happy. How can you tell? It’s the […]
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August 30, 2017 – 10:31 am
from ON THE FLOOD PLAIN People have told us we built too near the lake “The flood plain is dangerous they said and no doubt they know more about it than we do — but here wind pressed down on new-formed ice trembles it like some just-invented musical instrument and that shrieking obligato to winter […]
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August 16, 2017 – 4:34 pm
If you gaze at the stars, they turn their fiery irises towards our wet/dirty planet and watch the tidal motion of person piercing person with penis, and gladius, and bullet. A supergiant’s own combustion sparks light, honesty. We merely chalk compassion on blackboards, speak it from pulpits without much purchase for permanence. If you speak, […]
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August 10, 2017 – 10:24 pm
What is the meaning of life? That was all – a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with the years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark. Virginia Woolf from To the […]
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from Massachusetts Audubon Chart No. 1, 1898 I’ve come to think that what we know of our lives often has nothing to do with understanding, but with some accidental loveliness we put our hopes in, the excess, say, of a thrush fluting its elongated ee — oo – lay; or the way a flock of […]
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Oh, the world, the world, What eye is wide enough? What pupil sufficiently diligent. — Greg Orr ………………………I want to go howl in the city, or smash windows, or make my life sheer shine in this miracle ache of the world. — Dennis Lee Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks. — […]
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