May 2012
54 posts
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“if I could have caught up from the earth, the whole of the flowers of the earth, if once I could have breathed into myself the very golden crocuses and the red, and the very golden hearts of the first saffron, the whole of the golden mass, the whole of the great fragrance, I could have dared the loss.”
H.D., from “Eurydice”
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“… The love of the painter standing alone and staring, staring at the great colored surface he is making. Standing with him in the room the rearing canvas stares back with tentative shapes halted in their growth, moving in a new rhythm from floor to ceiling. The twisted tubes, the fresh paint squeezed and smeared across the dry on his palette… It was this feeling of belonging …”
Mervyn Peake,...
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Where does such tenderness come from? These aren’t the first curls I’ve wound around my finger— I’ve kissed lips darker than yours.
The sky is washed and dark (Where does such tenderness come from?) Other eyes have known and shifted away from my eyes.
But I’ve never heard words like this in the night (Where does such tenderness come from?) with my head on your chest, rest.
Where does this...
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“Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.”
Mark Strand, “The Coming of Light”
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“I was on the edge of something For which there is no precise name… An insistent drowsiness, A self-evasion…”
Anna Akhmatova, from “Death”, in The Complete Poems
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The trees in the moonshine are a dark lattice,...
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“I shall return today right there, Where I had been at spring. I’m neither sorry, nor unfair— I only darkness bring.”
Anna Akhmatova, from “Four Seasons of the Year,”
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“And now I want to be left without words. To know how to lose what is being lost.”
Mirta Rosenberg, from “Portrait Ended”
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A Mind That Knows itself That is...
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“The thing about life is that you must survive. Life is going to be difficult, and dreadful things will happen. What you do is move along, get on with it, and be tough. Not in the sense of being mean to others, but being tough with yourself and making a deadly effort not to be defeated.”
Katharine Hepburn
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“let me tell you about yesterday, once more about yesterday: the incomparable day that no one will ever see again upon the earth.”
Angel Gonzalez, from “Yesterday”
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“Can you understand? For all my despair, for all my ideals — I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much — so very much to learn.”
Sylvia Plath
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“What I am after is silence in proportion to desire…”
Vona Groarke, from “Purism”
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“May, and among the miles of leafing, blossoms storm out of the darkness”
Mary Oliver, first line from “May”
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“All night I hear so many echoes in the forest I’m tempted to look back, to save myself in hindsight, where all I see is the absence of me. Where all I hear is your voice…”
Chard deNiord, from “This Ecstasy”
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“who is invisible enough to see you?”
Paul Celan, from “Breathturn” in Selected Poems
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