Friday, October 30, 2009

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

His head down

When you find a man
Who transforms
Every part of you
Into poetry,
Who makes each one of your hairs
Into a poem,
When you find a man,
As I am
Of bathing and adorning you
With poetry,
I will beg you
To follow him without hesitation,
It is not important
That you belong to me or him
But that you belong to poetry.
Translation by Bassam K. Frangieh and Clementina R. Brown

Friday, October 23, 2009

In all that dark

No Country For Old Men by the Coen Brothers - Final Scene

...How'd you sleep?

I don't know. Had dreams.

Well you got time for 'em now. Any-
thing interesting?

Well they always is to the party

Ed Tom, I'll be polite.

Okay. Two of 'em. Both had my father.
It's peculiar. I'm older now'n he
ever was by twenty years. So in a sen-
se he's the younger man. Anyway, first
one I don't remember so well but it
was about money and I think I lost it.

The second one, it was like we was
both back in older times and I was on
horseback goin through the mountains
of a night.

...Goin through this pass in the moun-
tains. It was cold and there was snow
on the ground and he rode past me
and kept on goin. Never said nothin
goin by. He just rode on past and he
had his blanket wrapped around him and
his head down...

...and when he rode past I seen he
was carryin fire in a horn the way
people used to do and I could see the
horn from the light inside of it.
About the color of the moon. And in
the dream I knew that he was goin on
ahead and that he was fixin to make a
fire somewhere out there in allthat
dark and all that cold, and I knew
that whenever I got there he would be

...Then I woke up.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

And I could replace you with older pictures of you, from back when you looked happy.

Whales have calves,
Cats have kittens,
Bears have cubs,
Bats have bittens,
Swans have cygnets,
Seals have puppies,
But guppies just have little guppies.
The Guppy by Ogden Nash

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world.

I think I could turn and live with animals, they're so placid and self contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the earth.
Walt Whitman

Saturday, October 17, 2009

I'd give up most things today for those moments in my past again

A razor company once invited George Bernard Shaw to shave his famous beard. He responded with a postcard:


I shall never shave, for the same reason that I started a beard, and for the reason my father started his. I remember standing at his side, when I was five, while he was shaving for the last time. “Father,” I asked, “Why do you shave?” He stood there for a full minute and finally looked down at me. “Why the hell do I?” he said.


"Make me young, make me young, make me young," he cries. "No, no -- take me back, instead... oh God, take me back..." His mind would often change.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Saturday, October 3, 2009

This is why this life must stay

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,—
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Friday, October 2, 2009

Comprehend, my friend; learning is no longer enough

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust more dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold and dark and dreary.
It rains and the wind is never weary.
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past.
And youth's fond hopes fall thick in the blast.
And my life is dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart and cease repining
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining
Thy fate is the common fate of all
Into each life some rain must fall
Some days must be dark and dreary.
The Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow