And now, from the “what I’m reading while waiting patiently for ant” pile: Read more →
Tag: poem
Yes, I Was Reading That Powers Bibliography Today
Sphinx And Medusa Clark Ashton Smith The old constraint of an essential bond Hath linkt them in my mind: opposed they stare, Twin silences, that through Time’s Otherwhere, The ruinous past, thus each to each respond, One with mysterious gaze that sees beyond The straining suns, calm as the voidness there; And one with eyes like deserts of despair, Flameless… Read more →
The Men That Don’t Fit In
There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to… Read more →
Metatextual Wonder
Alice at R’lyeh. You know you want to go look already Here’s a snippet of Lovecraft and Alice talking to convince you: “But this monster is merely the mask of what’s worse — “The faceless monstrosity of the cold universe! “The meaninglessness of our bleak situation “The smallness of Man amidst dark obfuscation!” “What you say,” ventured Alice, “may be… Read more →
I am weary of days and hours
Earlier today I ran into this passage in the course of my wanderings: From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. Now I’m generally not… Read more →
The Assassins: One
Hashish Poem Swear off wine and drink from the cup of Haydar, amber–scented, smarigdite green. Look: it is offered to you by a slender Turkish gazelle who sways delicate as a willow bough. As he prepares it, you might compare it to the traces of fine down on a blushing cheek since even the slightest breeze makes it move as… Read more →
The Child Of A Full Eclipse
I was not previously aware that Guy Gavriel Kay had “made his mark” as a poet before becoming a novelist. I can perhaps be excused for this, since my awareness of Kay started when I read his first novel (at age 11 or 12). To me, therefore, he’s a novelist, and one that I tend to automatically buy when he… Read more →
The Eldritch Dark
Now as the twilight’s doubtful interval Closes with night’s accomplished certainty, A wizard wind goes crying eerily, And on the wold misshapen shadows crawl, Miming the trees, whose voices climb and fall, Imploring, in Sabbatic ecstacy, The sky where vapor-mounted phantoms flee From the scythed moon impendent over all. Twin veils of covering cloud and silence, thrown Across the movement… Read more →
My thought for the day
There are things I miss, but not enough to pay the price for having them. “The Old Man Dreams” Oh for one hour of youthful joy! Give back my twentieth spring! I’d rather laugh, a bright-haired boy, Than reign, a gray-beard king. Off with the spoils of wrinkled age! Away with Learning’s crown! Tear out life’s Wisdom-written page, And dash… Read more →
Silence Falls On Mecca’s Walls
And now, because I couldn’t turn up a copy of this online todayGoogle so rarely fails me these days, and ironically, once I had looked it up I was able to find a copy with a non-title search. when I wanted to refer to it during a heated discussion of US foreign policy, and I had to go pull out… Read more →
Ions played instead of notes
This is how things happen: First, author Sarah Monette mentions a LiveJournal that posts a poem every Monday. I follow this link and make a note to come back later and look for poets I am not familiar with. And as I start looking over the list the first thing that grabs me is a post of Thylias Moss’s poem… Read more →
More Santayana
While that last piece was read at Santayana‘s death, I’m slightly more enamoured with a piece he wrote on the death of a friend, simply entitled “To W.P.“. It’s not too long, so you could go read the whole thing. Here are two bits that particularly resonate with parts of my personal philosophy: Another, if I would, I could not… Read more →
The Poet’s Testament
George Santayana began as a poet, and, though he came to be known as philosopher, teacher and critic, a poet he remained. There was nothing blank, free or modern about his verses’; they rhymed, and what he had to say often sounded like a translation from the Latin classics, with which he was intimately familiar. When he died in Rome… Read more →
No Practical Value
You know what I want, that is ridiculously expensive, and that I can in no way practically justify, but which I still have a serious hankering for? A sword cane. At least twice a week for the last couple of months, I’ve spent some time looking at the photos at the Burger Knives sword cane pages–especially the titanium “Stilletto” model.… Read more →
I’m glad it’s not just me
AN EXCUSE FOR NOT RETURNING THE VISIT OF A FRIEND Do not be offended because I am slow to go out. You know Me too well for that. On my lap I hold my little girl. At my Knees stands my handsome little son. One has just begun to talk. The other chatters without Stopping. They hang on my clothes… Read more →
