When the world is strange around me, it is because i am pursing my lips. The mind can unlearn its tricks, the silver swath, the white shoots that swish out to their same garbage cans. These masteries can be unmastered. But tonight there is something on top of me, something I can’t get rid of. [...]
Archive for June, 2008
Poem of the Day: Facebook
Posted in Nina Alvarez, poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, words, Write, Writer, writing on 06/29/2008 | Leave a Comment »
Poem of the Day: In Memory of Sigmund Freud
Posted in auden, Nina Alvarez, poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, words, Write, Writer, writing on 06/20/2008 | Leave a Comment »
In honor of my new friend, Jorge Porcel De Peralta, who loves Auden and the Argentinians who love Freud: In Memory of Sigmund Freud When there are so many we shall have to mourn, when grief has been made so public, and exposed to the critique of a whole epoch the frailty of our conscience [...]
Poem of the Day: We are the time. We are the famous
Posted in borges, poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, Write, Writer, writing on 06/13/2008 | Leave a Comment »
Estoy en la Argentina. En honor de eso, aquí está un poema de Luis Borges. Aprenda más sobre Borges aquí. I am in Argentina. In honor of this, here is a poem by Luis Borges. Learn more about Borges and the web here. And learn about Borges and Buenos Aires here. We are the time. [...]
Poem of the Day: The Heathrose
Posted in goethe, Nina Alvarez, poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, words, Write, Writer, writing, tagged goethe, heathrose on 06/09/2008 | 1 Comment »
ONCE a boy a Rosebud spied, Heathrose fair and tender, All array’d in youthful pride,– Quickly to the spot he hied, Ravished by her splendour. Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, Heathrose fair and tender! Said the boy, “I’ll now pick thee, Heathrose fair and tender!” Said the rosebud, “I’ll prick thee, So that thou’lt remember me, [...]
Poem of the Day: One Thing I Love
Posted in Nina Alvarez, poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, words, Write, Writer, writing on 06/06/2008 | 1 Comment »
Jil Hanifan pressing down her lead piling will over our freshman bodies, oh the sophomores were more with it. One was a black poet and I read a poem Jil loved and i held it close to me, strictly, because her eye was a Sauron eye and I basked in it like a heat lamp [...]
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