October 2009
31 posts
Because this is the advice my brother would give...
Lives of the Watchmakers
by Michael Rutherglen
Surely there are teeth so small. I have listened for their turning, this frail swell and fall
like old blood yearning upwards through the skin of days. Slowly, I am learning
their count, though numbers fray in me, and the loaded instants graft, coming always
to the same tangle: the distant cry merging with the song at hand, the rain’s insistent
opening in daylong dryness, the...
\Song of the Day\ Matt & Kim - Good Ol’...
The Waking
by Theodore Roethke
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you? God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there, And learn by going where I have to go.
...
\Song of the Day\ Bonnie ‘Prince’...
\Song of the Day\ Nick Drake - Horn
/Another Song of the Day/ Cat Power - Good Woman
...
Still
I take sweet boys and turn them into stone. Our house was made of feathered limbs, those hollow quills for room and board — not skin or bone but something else. Eat milk and rice for empty-strong but when you’re gone, the bowl of hours is combed and filled, still cold as stones can be.
\Song of the Day\ Badly Drawn Boy - Camping Next...
Some phrases that can be formed using the letters...
Heidelberg man
bleeding heart
Belgian hare
landing gear
"Love at Thirty-Two Degrees"
An excerpt from a poem by Katherine Larson which, coincidentally, comes from the March 2006 issue of Poetry magazine — the cover of which was graced by the leaves of a gingko.
Today I dissected a squid, the late acacia tossing its pollen across the black of the lab bench. In a few months the maples will be bleeding. That was the thing: there was no blood only textures of gills creased like...
\Song of the Day\ Broken Social Scene -...
\Song of the Day\ Aimee Mann - Deathly
thumbswithhands:
The Jesus and Mary Chain—Just...
Google Sky →
\Song of the Day\ El Ten Eleven - My Only Swerving
An Excerpt from Rilke
Der Wald ist wild, die Welt ist weit, mein Herz ist hell und gross; es hält die blasse Einsamkeit mein Haupt in ihrem Schoss. Translation, which does it little justice, since the original is written entirely in iambic sextameter/octameter:
The wood is wild, the world is wide, my heart is clear and big; pale solitude is holding my head upon her lap.
\Song of the Day\ Explosions In The Sky - Look...
