Read a little poetry
I can trace my love of poetry back to my 7th grade English teacher. For reasons lost to the fog of time, one day Natalie Fine handed me a book of poems by Langston Hughes and simply said, “I think you...
View ArticleCounterfeit
A Counterfeit — a Plated Person —I would not be —Whatever strata of IniquityMy Nature underlie —Truth is good Health — and Safety, and the Sky.How meagre, what an Exile — is a Lie,And Vocal — when we...
View ArticleI prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages
POSSIBILITIES Wisława Szymborska I prefer movies. I prefer cats. I prefer the oaks along the Warta. I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky. I prefer myself liking people to myself loving mankind. I prefer...
View ArticlePetit Livre d’Amour
Your Valentine’s Day gift will have to be extraordinary to top the Petit Livre d’Amour (Little Book of Love). This very elaborate handmade book was given by the 16th-century French poet Pierre Salas...
View ArticlePangur Bán
Over the years, I have seen a few different translations of this ninth century poem written by an unknown monk in Old Irish at or near Reichenau Abbey in what is now Germany. This version was...
View ArticleMainly Miscellany
Who knew that Edward Gorey designed the sets for the U.S. revival of the 1924 stage play Dracula ? I certainly did not, but this fascinating article on the terrific CrimeReads blog does a deep dive...
View ArticleRegret Nothing
ANTILAMENTATION by Dorianne Laux Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who killed the cook. Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark, in spite of your...
View ArticleJust wait, to see what’s going to happen.
Raymond Carver’s “At Least” I want to get up early one more morning, before sunrise. Before the birds, even. I want to throw cold water on my face and be at my work table when the sky lightens and...
View ArticleIn March the earth remembers its own name
Twelve Moons – Mary Oliver 1 In March the earth remembers its own name. Everywhere the plates of snow are cracking. The rivers begin to sing. In the sky the winter stars are sliding away; new stars...
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