Late on the Earth
December 31, 2011, 12:00 pm
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“I literally used to walk around with a revolver in my pocket. Illegally, for that matter. In my general despair I did everything possible to remain in my dream-world – or to be quickly removed from it.” –Gunnar Ekelöf



As Befits a Man- Langston Hughes
December 31, 2011, 9:24 am
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I don’t mind dying—
But I’d hate to die all alone!
I want a dozen pretty women
To holler, cry, and moan.

I don’t mind dying
But I want my funeral to be fine:
A row of long tall mamas
Fainting, Fanning, and crying.

I want a fish-tail hearse
And sixteen fish-tail cars,
A big brass band
And a whole truck load of flowers.

When they let me down,
Down into the clay,
I want the women to holler:
Please don’t take him away!
Please don’t take daddy away!

Passengers- Billy Collins
December 30, 2011, 7:23 am
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At the gate, I sit in a row of blue seats
with the possible company of my death,
this sprawling miscellany of people—
carry-on bags and paperbacks—
that could be gathered in a flash
into a band of pilgrims on the last open road.
Not that I think
if our plane crumpled into a mountain
we would all ascend together,
holding hands like a ring of skydivers,
into a sudden gasp of brightness,
or that there would be some common place
for us to reunite to jubilize the moment,
some spaceless, pillarless Greece
where we could, at the count of three,
toss our ashes into the sunny air.
It’s just that the way that man has his briefcase
so carefully arranged,
the way that girl is cooling her tea,
and the flow of the comb that woman
passes through her daughter’s hair …
and when you consider the altitude,
the secret parts of the engines,
and all the hard water and the deep canyons below …
well, I just think it would be good if one of us
maybe stood up and said a few words,
or, so as not to involve the police,
at least quietly wrote something down.

he knows me better than i know myself
December 26, 2011, 7:40 am
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Love is when you meet someone
who tells you something new about yourself. -Andre Breton

happy holidays! ♥
December 24, 2011, 10:07 pm
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A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together. - Garrison Keillor

loving this!
December 23, 2011, 7:24 am
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“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even try. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean mockery—isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”

Charles Bukowski

Reading Sappho in a Wine Bar -Keetje Kuipers
December 20, 2011, 7:21 am
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Today I promised you a poem entitled
“Mowing the Lawn Out of Spite”
in honor of your husband who would
do any job poorly if it might twist

your heart open to him. The wine glasses
are lined up so perfectly. Hard to believe
they might ever be broken, but each one will.
Think of the delicate, the fragile, the weak:

a beetle’s wing, a swing’s slow arc, your very
smallest child. You watched your husband drag
the lawn mower across the backyard, saw
his lips curse it through the window each time

it stalled. If you listened closely you could
hear his voice, the sound of glass cracking
beneath your feet. Or perhaps he was cursing
you, your joy on this first day of spring.