file under: thing drawn (entity created)::::: slovenly moth
Saturday, January 24, 2009
twelve recent small things photographed, part two
twelve recent small things photographed, part 3
Thursday, January 15, 2009
first small thing noted. january 15 2009. hi melissa.
read some roethke (about 10 poems or so) and found my first two small things, and they are both third sections of roethke poems:
(from the poem "BRING THE DAY")
3.
O small bird wakening,
Light as a hand among blossoms,
Hardly any old angels are around any more.
The air's quiet under the small leaves.
The dust, the long dust, stays.
The spiders sail into summer.
It's time to begin!
To begin!
(from the poem "SENSIBILITY! O LA!")
3.
You all-of-a-sudden gods,
There's a ghost loose in the long grass!
My sweetheart's still in her cave.
I've waked the wrong wind:
I'm alone with my ribs;
The lake washes its stones.
You've seen me, prince of stinks,
Naked and entire.
Exalted? Yes,-
By the lifting of the tail of the neighbor's cat
Or that old harpy secreting toads in her portmanteau.
Mamma! Put on your dark hood;
It's a long way to somewhere else.
The shade says: love the sun.
I have.
La, la,
The light turns.
The moon still abides.
I hear you, alien of the moon.
Is the sun under my arm?
My sleep deceives me.
Has the dark a door?
I'm somehwhere else,--
I insist!
I am.
(from the poem "BRING THE DAY")
3.
O small bird wakening,
Light as a hand among blossoms,
Hardly any old angels are around any more.
The air's quiet under the small leaves.
The dust, the long dust, stays.
The spiders sail into summer.
It's time to begin!
To begin!
(from the poem "SENSIBILITY! O LA!")
3.
You all-of-a-sudden gods,
There's a ghost loose in the long grass!
My sweetheart's still in her cave.
I've waked the wrong wind:
I'm alone with my ribs;
The lake washes its stones.
You've seen me, prince of stinks,
Naked and entire.
Exalted? Yes,-
By the lifting of the tail of the neighbor's cat
Or that old harpy secreting toads in her portmanteau.
Mamma! Put on your dark hood;
It's a long way to somewhere else.
The shade says: love the sun.
I have.
La, la,
The light turns.
The moon still abides.
I hear you, alien of the moon.
Is the sun under my arm?
My sleep deceives me.
Has the dark a door?
I'm somehwhere else,--
I insist!
I am.
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