E. Housman poem from somewhere in A Shropshire Lad . And though I never bothered to look up the poem, that one verse stayed in my memory. When I had my own boys, I sometimes woke them with the Housman lines. Then one early summer morning, when my older son, Matt, had just ...
published in London. The anticipated shock of the poem’s layout for its readers prompted the editors to request a preface from Mallarmé explaining how to read the poem. Occasionally a worn copy of the issue comes up for sale by a rare book dealer or auction house, butGallica(France’s N...
would exclaim, ‘Thanks to the leadership of Comrade Napoleon, how excellent this water tastes!’ The general feeling on the farm was expressed in a poem entitled ‘Comrade Napoleon’, which
Because the earth is the earth is the earth, as the line from the poem goes. It’s all of our home. I can budge up a little, if you can. There’s space right here. 5 Comments | posted in Uncategorized March 11, 2015 Now that the dust has settled . . . By sarah I love...
Carl Sandburg who had a penchant for incorporating familiar similes into his work, quoted this in his poem, New Hampshire Again. (A pale flat woman with a) face like a fillet of flounder —Helen Hudson Face like a knotty whorl in the bark of a hoary olive tree —Amos Oz Face … like...
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Anything and anyone can be beautiful depending on who is looking at it. Beauty can be found ina bloomingflower, a gentle bird call, afragrantwine, a kindact, ablossoming romance, a poem, or apainting. But how is it that we determine these things...
A love poem that takes off from the act of trying to remember forging a name in a hotel register for an assignation that forged something true and lasting, ‘Smith’ is about making one’s mark as artist and responding, intimately, one human to another. To transfer her marks made in res...
Funny you should ask, Sherry, because I did have an extraordinary moment with a wild crow who went out its way to tempt me to play a game and coax me out of my doldrums. I wrote a poem about it years later, though what she said was wordless; being human, I put it into words. ...
These are no amusements [ioca], no, they are not; they are sins[crimina].A human being is changed into an idol; and if it is a sin to go to idols, what do you think it is to be an idol? … Clearly you may not have altogether intended it this way, but on the whole this ...
A few weeks ago I pulled over to the side of a busy road, hiking back to the creek I had crossed a thousand times. I sat on the edge of the bridge and scribbled a poem in an old notebook I’d found in my purse. I was late to my next appointment, but I’m not sorry. I’...