We open doors, close doors, pass through doors, and reach at the end of our only journey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .no city, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .no harbor— the train derails, the&hel…
Source: This Journey by Nazim Hikmet
Author: zdunno03
ankles and knees
it’s the ankles
really
slender shapely
connecting those lovely feet
to those long legs
not to mention
the knees
friends say
I’m a leg man
who am I
to deny
what history has
proved to be true
in your case
naturally
a reaffirmation
of my predilection
for ankles
and knees
and all they connect
to what you stand upon
smiling at me
from the film Judgment at Nuremberg: Stanley Kramer, director, & Abby Mann, screenwriter
A country isn’t a rock. It’s not an extension of one’s self. It’s what it stands for. It’s what it stands for when standing for something is the most difficult.
just out of reach
like a word
on the tip
of my tongue
you hover
just out of reach
unimaginable
In a Boat by anonymous 19th Century woman poet in Korea
Flowers were opening at the house where I spent the night;
this morning I cross a river afloat with petals.
Spring is busy like people, coming and going:
no sooner have I seen the flowers than I see them fall.
translated by Kim Jong-gil
I a poor navigator
such a little boat
such a wide sea
and I
a poor navigator
no compass
just stars
in a cloudy sky
“Democracy is coming to the USA, It’s coming through a crack in the wall” — Art of Quotation
“Democracy is coming to the USA, It’s coming through a crack in the wall” — Leonard Cohen, song quotes, song lyrics from “Democracy” Regarding the song Democracy A quarter century ago, Cohen speaks to our time with astonishing prescience — for any great artist is at bottom a seer in dialogue with eternal human problems […]
via “Democracy is coming to the USA, It’s coming through a crack in the wall” — Art of Quotation
we like a cat
we
like a cat
huddled under blankets
on a bed
in a home
it knows
escaping
that bitter wind
blowing cold
from outside
Peach-Blossom River by Chang Hsü
A bridge flies away through a wild mist,
Yet here are the rocks and the fisherman’s boat.
Oh, if only this river of floating peach-petals
Might lead me at last to the mythical cave!
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
The Autumn Brook by Hsüeh T’ao
It has turned crystal clear lately
And flows away like a ribbon of smoke
With a music like a ten strınged zither.
The sound penetrates to my pillow,
And turns my mind to past loves,
And won’t let me sleep for melancholy.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
Leonard Durso 