Monday, November 19, 2012
A scroll full of poems by poets of talent, and big pot full of wine fit for saints. I love to walk out to watch the young bull calves; sitting, I’d rather stay close to home. Frost and dew can soak through thatch, but the moon flowers white through the window made of old bottles; […]
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Lying on a high seat in the south study, We have lifted the curtain—and we see the rising moon Brighten with pure light the water and the grove And flow like a wave on our window and our door. It will move through the cycle, full moon and then crescent again, Calmly, beyond our wisdom, […]
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Had we but World enough, and Time, This coyness Lady were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long Loves Day. Thou by the Indian Ganges side. Should’st Rubies find: I by the Tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood: […]
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Poetry and table tennis are games of reflex. They are played optimally—and play is the operative word—in the synaptic space where consciousness has no time to abstract into self-recrimination. There is no beauty in the reflex itself, there is beauty in its timing. That is, there is beauty in the relation between stimulus and reflex. […]
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
All those years and I never realized why I found the mourning dove so interesting until you pointed out that morning we stood by the icy window its resemblance to Robert Penn Warren— the secretive eyes, soft royal neck, and the mild, unruffled demeanor. It was the day after a garrulous night of champagne and […]
Ou temps qu’Alixandre regna, Ung horns nommé Diomedès Devant luy on luy amena Engrillonné poulces et des Comme ung larron, car il fut des Escumeurs que voions courir; Si fut mis devant ce cadès, Pour estre jugié a mourir. L’empereur si l’araisonna: «Pourquoi es tu larron en mer?» L’autre responce luy donna: «Pourquoy laron me […]
Thursday, September 29, 2011
But here my Muse her wing maun cour, Sic flights are far beyond her power; To sing how Nannie lap and flang, (A souple jade she was and strang), And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch’d, And thought his very een enrich’d: Even Satan glowr’d, and fidg’d fu’ fain, And hotch’d and blew wi’ might […]
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
To be real on this path you must be humble— If you look down at others you’ll get pushed down the stairs. If your heart goes around on high, you fly far from this path. There’s no use hiding it— What’s inside always leaks outside. Even the one with the long white beard, the one […]
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
A single word can brighten the face of one who knows the value of words. Ripened in silence, a single word acquires a great energy for work. War is cut short by a word, and a word heals the wounds, and there’s a word that changes poison into butter and honey. Let a word mature […]
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Unmoved by what the wind does, The windows Are not rattled, nor do the various Areas Of the house make their usual racket— Creak at The joints, trusses and studs. Instead, They are still. And the maples, Able At times to raise havoc, Evoke Not a sound from their branches’ Clutches. It’s my night to […]