Darwin‘s Finches 1 My mother always called it a nest, the multi-colored mass harvested from her six daughters’ brushes,
Archive for June, 2008
Poem of the day, June 25
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Poem of the day, June 24
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Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
Poem of the day, June 22
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Whether or Not There Are Apples for D. I like to take the dress off the line, the heat still in it. The heat comes from the whole dress into me, and the smell of apples, whether or not there are apples.
Poem of the day, June 21
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Here, summer
True Peace
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Two old men had lived together for many years and they had never fought with one another. The first said to the other, “Let us also have a fight like other men.”
Poem of the day, June 20
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Scrabble with Matthews Jerboa on a triple: I was in for it, my zither on a double looking feeble as a “promising” first book.
Poem of the day, June 17
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Da Capo Take the used-up heart like a pebble and throw it far out. Soon there is nothing left.
Poem of the day, June 16
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When I Heard at the Close of Day When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv’d with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow’d; And else, when I carous’d, or when my plans were accomplish’d, still I was not happy;
Poem of the day, June 9
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The Real Work It may be that when we no longer know what to do we have come to our real work,
Poem of the day, June 7
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The Waste Land ["I saw with my own eyes the Sibyl at Cumae hanging in a cage, and when the boys said to her 'Sibyl, what do you want?' that one replied 'I want to die'.] For Ezra Pound, il miglior fabbro. [the better craftsman] I. The Burial of the Dead April is the cruelest [...]
