William Longgood
How little we really know about the life all around us. Would we be so cavalier and ruthless with it if we understood it better? ― William Longgood
Month: June 2020
Skipwith Cannéll
I am weary with longing.I am faint with love;for upon my head the moonlighthas fallenas a sword. — Skipwith Cannéll, from “Nocturnes,” Poetry (August 1913).
Oscar Wilde
She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness. It is the feet of clay that make the gold of the image precious. ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray. (Modern Library; Modern Library edition June 1, 1998) Originally published June 20th 1890.
Richard Jackson
Resonance The hieroglyphics of sunset written on the bay’s water:your sad eyes the moon has lit its little fires inside of.The wind untangling itself from streetlights and trees:your voice hollowed out by a loneliness I can’t name.The heat lightning hesitating in the dark corridors of the night:the meanings for your love that flicker like a… Continue reading Richard Jackson
Søren Kierkegaard
Hope is a passion for the possible. ― Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling. (Penguin Books; Penguin Great Ideas edition May 30, 2006) Originally published 1843.
Patrizia Valduga
From nerves veins valves ventriclesfrom tendons cartilage nerves ductsfrom follicles nerves ribs clavicles …from every pore my soul erupts. — Patrizia Valduga, from “One Hundred Quatrains,” trans. Geoffrey Brock, Poetry (December 2007)
Colman Domingo
God is a feckless thug. — Colman Domingo [Victor Strand] Fear the Walking Dead, “The Diviner” Season 3 Episode 10. September 10, 2017.
Nick Flynn
You know the way Jesusrips open his shirtto show us his heart, all flaming and thorny,the way he points to it. I’m afraidthe way I’ll miss you will be this obvious. — Nick Flynn, from “Emptying Town,” Some Ether. (Graywolf Press; 1st Graywolf Printing edition May 1, 2000)
Joseph Stevens Buckminster
I desire to be still, and await the will of God. — Joseph Stevens Buckminster
Tom Hennen
Rain began quietly with the dark.Cold waterSoaks the fur of wild things.A smell of wet lumber is everywhere.The night sways slightlyTied to the dock. —Tom Hennen, “Night near the Lake,” Darkness Sticks to Everything: Collected and New Poems (Copper Canyon Press, 2013)
