February 2011
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I measured your excellence
from the beginning (& it was all about measure)...
– Aaron Shurin, “XCIV,” Involuntary Lyrics
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January 2011
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‘That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
‘Has it begun to...
– T. S. Eliot, From The Waste Land (adapted from actegratuit)
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music lies
inside a war
on words impaneled
with oak notes in sight
of codes...
– Aaron Shurin, “XLVI,” Involuntary Lyrics
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A room of thought is wedged between the androgyny of hair and new leaves gasping...
– Aaron Shurin, “Steeped”
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You are free, so choose; in other words, invent. No general code of ethics can...
– Jean-Paul Sartre (via human-voices)
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Toward night, frail flurries of snow. Fingernails of willows scratching frost...
– Kevin Goodan, “Untitled [Toward night]” (link)
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One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the...
– Wallace Stevens, “The Snow Man”
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Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is.
– Albert Camus (via human-voices)
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Neurosis is the inability to tolerate ambiguity.
– Sigmund Freud (via trollinthedungeons)
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I have had my chance to live with the people who have
too much and the people...
– Carl Sandburg, From “Testament” (full poem here)
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Long after you have swung back
away from me
I think you are still with me:...
– Denise Levertov, “Losing Track”
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This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were...
– John Keats, “This Living Hand”
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I palpate you as a violin palpates the silk of the faraway time
and around me...
– Mahmoud Darwish, From “Sonnet V” (link)
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Are you too deeply occupied to say if my verse is alive? The mind is so near...
– Emily Dickinson to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, 16 April 1862 (link)
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The love I’ve known is the love of
two people staring
not at each...
– Frank Bidart, From “To the Dead” (link)
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My hands
open the curtains of your being
clothe you in a further nudity...
– Octavio Paz, “Touch” (via goodpoetry)
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… It is the spell
of ordinary, unrequited love. Watch these egrets
stalk...
– Derek Walcott, From “In the Village” (link)
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Do not ask who I am and do not ask me to remain the same. More than one person,...
– Michel Foucault (via aperfectcommotion)
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I think life would suddenly seem wonderful to us if we were threatened to die. ...
– Marcel Proust
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I have tried to write Paradise
Do not move
Let the wind speak
...
– Ezra Pound, From “Notes for Canto CXX” (link)
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You speak, and suddenly you are a thousand words standing up.
– Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions: Volume I, translated by Rosmarie Waldrop (via aperfectcommotion)
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Joy and sorrow in this world pass into each other, mingling their forms and...
– Joseph Conrad, from “A Familiar Preface” to A Personal Record (via liquidnight; thanks awritersruminations, crashinglybeautiful)
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O You,
Who came upon me once
Stretched under apple-trees just after bathing,...
– Amy Lowell, “Carrefour”
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In a description, one can list indefinitely the objects which were in a given...
– Marcel Proust (via fuckyeahproust)
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If poetry can terrify people by hideous fictions, painting can do as much by...
– Leonardo da Vinci, from “Painting Is Superior to Poetry” (full piece here)
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