“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thursday, March 15, 2018
Professor
He spoke of the same humbling
Revelation
As if he had just learned it
himself
forgetting he had said this
every time I met him-
The first time
it was
news (to me)
Now, he says
it as Truth.
It may be so
fascinating, even true, however,
there are reasons
it is
he will never know.
Image credit by Metropolitan Museum of Art [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Justice
It is only with calloused hands that the heavy body can claw and leverage the self upward on the thorny vine of a life without wince and whi...
-
Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
-
Family members, Party members, Americans and American'ts: There will be no favors! Some were lovable, some detestable at b...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...

No comments:
Post a Comment