Late Echo Alone with our madness and favorite flower We see that there really is nothing left to write about. Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things In the same way, repeating the same things over and over For love to continue and be gradually different. Beehives and ants have… Continue reading John Ashbery
I feel unspeakably lonely. And I feel – drained. It is a blank state of mind and soul I cannot describe to you as I think it would not make any difference. — Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait in Letters. (Mariner Books October 1, 2004) Originally published January 1st 1977.
Resurrection of the body of the beloved, Which is the world. Which is the poem Of the world, the poem of the body. Mortal ourselves and filled with awe, We gather the scattered limbs Of Osiris. That he should live again. That death not be oblivion. — Gregory Orr, from “Part One” of… Continue reading Gregory Orr
Everybody talks about wanting to change things and help and fix, but ultimately all you can do is fix yourself. And that’s a lot. Because if you can fix yourself, it has a ripple effect. ― Rob Reiner
A beach of dream before the smoking mirror. You are close to that surf, and the leaves heated by noon, and the star-ax, the miner’s glitter walls. The crests of the sea Are the same strength you wake with, the darkness is the eyes of children forming for a blaze of sight and soon, soon,… Continue reading Muriel Rukeyser
I wanted to run after him, but remembered that it is ridiculous to run after one’s wife’s lover in one’s socks; and I did not wish to be ridiculous but terrible. ― Leo Tolstoy, The Kreutzer Sonata. (Modern Library; Modern Library Paperback Ed edition September 9, 2003) Originally published 1889.
As for me, I used to be a bird with a gentle white womb, someone cut my throat just for laughs, I don’t know. As for me, I used to be a great albatross and whirled over the seas. Someone put an end to my journey, without any charity in the tone of… Continue reading Alda Merini