You are currently browsing the daily archive for April 11, 2012.
Eleanor Ross Taylor : 1920-2011
When I was two feet tall
and held the hand above,
how could I know
how far that limping bond would go,
that finger-inch of love.
A beautiful poem by Eduardo C. Corral : In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes
A snippet from Yusef Komunyakaa “An island is one…counterweight to the stars.”
From William Empson:
The coxcomb bird, so talkative and grave,
Who from his cage calls cuckold, whore, and knave,
Though many a passenger he rightly call,
You hold him no philosopher at all.
Vera Pavlova’s notebook is not to be missed. A fav:
“How do I feel about people who do not understand my poetry? I understand them.”