Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue? Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)— Though some savants make earth include the sky; And blue so far above us comes so… Continue reading Robert Frost
The power of the dead is that we think they see us all the time. The dead have a presence. Is there a level of energy composed solely of the dead? They are also in the ground, of course, asleep and crumbling. Perhaps we are what they dream. — Don DeLillo, White Noise. (Penguin Classics;… Continue reading Don DeLillo
Landscape with the Fall of Icarus According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field the whole pageantry of the year was awake tingling near the edge of the sea concerned with itself sweating in the sun that melted the wings’ wax unsignificantly off the coast there was a… Continue reading William Carlos Williams
These are the days that must happen to you. — Walt Whitman, from “Song of the Open Road,” Leaves of Grass. Originally published: July 4, 1855.
I will be your poet, I will be more to you than to any of the rest. — Walt Whitman, from “Native Moments,” Leaves of Grass: The Deathbed Edition (BOMC, 1992)
I Sing the Body Electric 1 I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them, They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul. Was it doubted that those… Continue reading Walt Whitman
“When I was just as far as I could walk From here today, There was an hour All still When leaning with my head against a flower I heard you talk. Don’t say I didn’t, for I heard you say— You spoke from that flower on the window sill— Do you remember what it was… Continue reading Robert Frost