The jungle of houses
Sunday, December 19th, 2010The jungle of houses Opens In a semicircle; Some next to others, Some behind others, Some on top of others, ...
Archive for the ‘Literature’ Category
The jungle of houses Opens In a semicircle; Some next to others, Some behind others, Some on top of others, ...
Selvas de ciudad
Thursday, December 16th, 2010Selvas de ciudad En semicírculo se abre la selva de casas: unas al lado de otras, unas detrás de otras, unas encima ...
Code Poem For The French Resistance
Friday, September 3rd, 2010The life that I have is all that I have And the life that I have is yours. The love that I have of the life that I have Is ...
From – Remembrance of Things Past
Wednesday, July 21st, 2010“The places we have known do not belong only to the world of space on which we map them for our own convenience. The memory of a particular image is but regret for a particular moment. And houses, roads, avenues are as fugitive , alas, as the years.” ...
ONCE more into my arid days
Thursday, July 1st, 2010ONCE more into my arid days like dew, Like wind from an oasis, or the sound Of cold sweet water bubbling underground, A treacherous messenger--the thought of you ...
Johnny
Thursday, May 27th, 2010O the valley in the summer where I and my John Beside the deep reiver would walk on and on While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above Argued so sweetly ...
Time of Roses
Thursday, April 1st, 2010It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the time of roses— We pluck’d them as we pass’d! That churlish season never frown’d On early ...
The Garden of Love
Sunday, February 7th, 2010The Garden of Love I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the ...
How to get on in society
Sunday, December 13th, 2009How to get on in society Phone for the fish knives, Norman As cook is a little unnerved; You kiddies have crumpled the serviettes And I must have things daintily served. ...
The Burning of the Leaves
Saturday, October 3rd, 2009Now is the time for the burning of the leaves, They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke Wandering slowly into the weeping mist. Brittle and blotched, ragged and ...
