All told, not absence but memory takes what it can, and we pay our debts by remembering completely. — Eric Gamalinda, from “Flash Photography,” Zero Gravity (Alice James books, 1999)
A thousand half-loves must be forsaken to take one whole heart home. — Rumi, The Book of Love: Poems of Ecstasy and Longing. (Harper One, 2003)
The last bus It is dark. A slight rain dampens the streets. Nothing moves in Lota’s park. The palms hang over the matted grass, and the voluminous bushes, bundled in sheets, billow beside the walks. The world is out of reach. The ghosts of bathers rise slowly out of the surf and turn high in… Continue reading Mark Strand
Perhaps it’s good for one to suffer. Can an artist do anything if he’s happy? Would he ever want to do anything? What is art, after all, but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life? — Aldous Huxley, Antic Hay. (Kessinger Publishing May 2005) Originally published 1923.
But I could say anything, couldn’t I? Like a bed we make and unmake at whim, the truth is always changing, always shaped by the latest collective urge to destroy. — Ai, from “The Testimony of J. Robert Oppenheimer,” Vice: New and Selected Poems. (W. W. Norton & Company; 1st Ed. edition June 17, 2000)… Continue reading Ai
There is no hope for the hopeless but there is always some love for the loveless. – Santosh Kalwar
“If shadows could talk they would tell us everything we know already but in the melodious language of tears in which every third word rhymes.” — Gregory Orr, from “Some Notes on Shadows,” The Caged Owl: New & Selected Poems (Copper Canyon Press, 2002)