An Artist who Never Cowered from Being his Unconventional Self “Few people in the two centuries since Emerson issued his exhortation to “trust thyself” have countered this culturally condoned blunting of individuality more courageously and consistently than E.E. Cummings (October 14, 1894–September 3, 1962) — an artist who never cowered from being his unconventional self because, in the words…
A list of things the might happen to you when you read poetry you finish quickly you don’t feel full you encounter nature odd feelings come up you go somewhere else, on a trip of the mind everyday objects reveal themselves language unravels and twists around you feel uncomfortable, but not unhappy about that you…
I remember you, you Lost soles, you distant loversForgotten from those daysSo long now in those Foreign lands. Everything we Predicted happened– weLost touch. We forgot what itFelt to be connected: first toEach other, and then Through each otherTo the pulsing, quaking potentialOf our shared mother, who isn’tDead yet, but merely laying in wait– Gentle…
When, in the course of Sleeping, I stumble across Some disturbance in a dream I will then find myself awake. Awakeness is a layered process, But eventually I squint at the Digital clock (if the laundry isn’t Blocking it) and come out of it. I might feel tired enough to Escape, but usually My mind…
Remember Anne Hathaway? A few years back she Hosted the Oscars. A guy who shall remain Nameless was also there but Was he really? Because She danced, sang and Joked circles around him. I’ll never be Anne Hathaway (Or Rebel Wilson, for that Matter) but I do remember The fine figure she cut that Evening…
Seventh day resting Balanced on land’s razor edge– Blood orange moon rises. -day 11, poetry month
