The World is Too Much With Us; Late and Soon The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The […]
Category Archives: poetry
The World is Too Much With Us
12-Dec-04Oh Little Voices Of the Throats of Men
30-Nov-04An untitled, unpublished-’til-1996 favorite of mine from T.S. Eliot’s youth.
A little rough compared to his later work, but the earlier Eliot feels more approachable in his unpolishedness. Simple and eloquent.
Entirely
03-Aug-04If we could get the hang of it entirely It would take too long; All we know is the splash of words in passing and falling twigs of song, And when we try to eavesdrop on the great Presences it is rarely That by a stroke of luck we can appropriate Even a phrase entirely. […]
The World Is Too Much With Us
03-Aug-04The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon, The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are […]
A Una Moneda
09-Jul-04Fría y tormentosa la noche que zarpé de Montevideo. Al doblar el Cerro, tiré desde la cubierta más alta una moneda que brilló y se anegó en las aguas barrosas, una cosa de luz que arrebataron el tiempo y la tiniebla. Tuve la sensación de haber cometido un acto irrevocable, de agregar a la historia […]
Louis MacNeice: Snow
08-Jul-04The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it. World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of […]
Sunlight on the Garden
06-Jul-04The sunlight on the garden Hardens and grows cold, We cannot cage the minute Within its nets of gold, When all is told We cannot beg for pardon. Our freedom as free lances Advances towards its end; The earth compels, upon it Sonnets and birds descend; And soon, my friend, We shall have no time […]
Borges: Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius
27-May-04Hilarious. Evidently, Wikipedia used to have an entry for Uqbar that followed in the spirit of Borges’ original story, Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius. The story is an amazing work of art, blurring in the mind of the reader the lines between fiction and nonfiction, reality and nonreality. Borges basically tells of this imaginary (?) world […]
Ok, dig this: words, synchopated to jazz in an amazingly both-rough-and-smooth and thought provoking fashion. This is what the web shoulda done to nouveaux-art a long long time ago… “My Secret Trip to Pyongyang: Forbidden Love on the Haeoondae” seriously, you gotta check this out…