i next chose red *
* Sylvia Plath (27 October 1932 to 11 February 1963 (from the Fable Of The Rhododendron Stealers))
Tuesday 27 October 2015
Wednesday 21 October 2015
Friday 16 October 2015
one hundred & fifty seven
To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all. … Art is Individualism, and Individualism is a disturbing and disintegrating force. Therein lies its immense value. For what it seeks to disturb is monotony of type, slavery of custom, tyranny of habit, and the reduction of man to the level of a machine. *
* Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde (16 October 1854 - 30 November 1900) from: The Soul of Man
Wednesday 7 October 2015
one hundred & fifty six
Your name is a finch in my hand,
A small bit of ice on tongue’s end
One movement of lips slightly stirred,
Your name is a four-letter word
A marble right-caught in mid-air,
A silvery tinkle of bells at a fair
A stone cast in a placid pond
Will snort in the likeness of family bond
As light as the clip-clop of horses’ hoofs,
As loud as the cling-clang of steel-shod hoofs ...
The dry-click of firing-pin at our head
Will sharply recall as your name is said
Your name is like – that I say not!
It’s like a kiss on the eyes wrought
When shut, they are laden with frosty grace …
Your name is like kissing a snow-swept glaze
A draught of cool blue from a spring-cleft rock,
Your name grants deep sleep around the clock *
* Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva (Мари́на Ива́новна Цвета́ева) (8 October 1892 – 31 August 1941)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)