In a movie theater we all stare straight ahead And wait for something to happen. Some need to be fulfilled, Others just want to be accepted. I think we’ve all seen this one before. It stars that insatiable hunger for what is yet to come, Directed by that unintelligible twitch in our brain Which says…
Category
Poetry
Glimpsing the Invisible
Tentatively enduring each agonizing gasp, you force your lungs to work but your eyes don’t blink. They finally called your name and you did the very thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do. Two steps ago you were safe in your chair. Now you’re that much closer to that fast approaching future you thought you’d…
Love Is A Little Weird
We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness, we call it love. –Dr. Seuss Illustration above by Mayumi Otero
When Is A Masterpiece Really A Masterpiece?
“What makes a work of art unique isn’t its color or composition or subject, it has nothing whatsoever to do with what we see. Why are some paintings masterpieces while others, perhaps even more competent, are forgotten? Why are some symphonies still beloved hundreds of years after the composer has died?” Gamache thought about it….
The Golden Echo by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Come then, your ways and airs and looks, locks, maiden gear, gallantry and gaiety and grace, Winning ways, airs innocent, maiden manners, sweet looks, loose locks, long locks, lovelocks, gaygear, going gallant, girlgrace— Resign them, sign them, seal them, send them, motion them with breath, And with sighs soaring, soaring síghs deliver Them; beauty-in-the-ghost, deliver…
I will not be diminished by you or anyone else.
“I expect you to answer Misère” said Gamache, turning back to Vasan Gilbert and holding his eyes. “Doctor” Gilbert said, his voice cold. “I will not be diminished by you or anyone else.” He looked again at his son, then back to the Chief Inspector. “Désolé,” said Gamache and bowed slightly, never taking his deep…
What kills can’t be seen
…to catch a killer they did’t move forward, they moved back, into the past. That was where the crime began, where the killer began. Some event, perhaps long forgotten by everyone else, had lodged inside the murderer and had begun to fester. “What kills can’t be seen,” the Cheif had warned Bovue. “That’s what makes…
What does a good artist do?
Good artists are people who can stick things together so that they stay stuck. They know how to gather things into formal arrangements that are intelligible, memorable, and lasting. Good forms confer health upon the things that they gather together. Farms, families, and communities are forms of art just as are poems, paintings, and symphonies….
Love = Death: A Haiku Poem for My Love
Love is the weakest To find love we first must die Dying to ourselves Dying to make room For love to enter our heart To Love is to die But faced with this death For a small chance to love you I would die always