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Category Archives: Uncategorized
Colorists on the Brink of Winter
“The colorists get it entirely wrong: nature is colored in winter and cold in summer, there’s nothing colder than full summer sun.” Tell me more, Camille Pissarro! Tell me, French landscape painter, about winter’s color, now that leaves now lying … Continue reading
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Tagged landscape painting, Pissarro, S.A.D., T.J. Clark, winter blues
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The Early Bird and other Myths
Oh bathroom window, what are those ash-gray clouds,needle in the morning’s eye — dawn too early in its strange light-threading.To 6am, I bring another party: my thoughts, light and frisky in dark crevices,champagne-splashed agent of chaos, so loud, you say, … Continue reading
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Tagged Dawn, philip Larkin, poetry
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Why Rake
That patch of clean clear grass will last only as long as I stand there, brown elm leavesfalling around me, and yet I keep raking. The sea of leaves will overtake us, as will early darkness. I keep stuffing … Continue reading
Bastille to Puritan Village: Strange Magic
Each time, after countless trips, still strange magic.Hours ago, we were eating croissants in the sun, looking at the soft green column of the Bastille, the genie de la Liberté, golden wings aloft, still leaping.Today I wake up to crisp carpeting … Continue reading
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Tagged displacement, estrangement, Paris, poetry, Rimbaud, time travel, travel
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Back to Scroll One
[Some smart-aleck loser decided to hack my little poetry site — hope he got some jollies! We’ve been out of commission for a while. I am back-posting this piece, and will jump to the present presently!] How amazing to be … Continue reading
The Waste Land is a Wasteland is a wasteland
I take the Waste Land as a day-to-day thing. When a dismal, cold slate gray rain falls from a slate gray sky, when it looks like wartime London, need we say more — T.S. Eliot’s 1922 poem, celebrating its centennial, … Continue reading
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Old Soul/Young Soul
Back in the day when I was a kid, it seemed cool to be an old soul. Whoever first enlightened me, when I first heard the phrase (to be or to have?), I don’t recall. Being an old soul seemed … Continue reading
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Dvorak’s Cricket Folk Dance
Classical music concert by the sea. Sun hot on our arms, yet the air makes us shiver. Little cabin, doors thrown open. Unaccustomed voices — women and black composers. Accustomed voices: Dvorak. Simultaneity: Crickets. These are not usual times. It … Continue reading
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Saving Joy
Summer can be poetry without the words. A sweet peach cuts through time and puts you right in the everlasting camp of the gods. A tomato is a love apple, pomme d’amour. The spume of the sea drenches with spent … Continue reading
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A Drop of Radiance has Touched the Everyday
As a traveler, I understand;you, a traveler, too, must travel, we mustsay good-bye,but a drop of radiance,a grapeof imaginary sun,has touched the blind blood of everyday… —— Pablo Neruda, excerpt from “Ode to the Third Day” Neruda, were you writing about a day of … Continue reading
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