December 2012
1 post
August 2012
1 post
Sharing Poetry: Pablo Neruda, "I Do Not Love You... →
sharingpoetry:
I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, From waiting to not waiting for you My heart moves from cold to fire. I love you only because it’s you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
July 2012
8 posts
Sharing Poetry: Patti Smith, "Seventh Heaven" →
sharingpoetry:
Oh Raphael. Guardian angel. In love and crime all things move in sevens. seven compartments in the heart. the seven elaborate temptations. seven devils cast from Mary Magdalene whore of Christ. the seven marvelous voyages of Sinbad. sin/bad. And the number seven branded forever on the…
Sharing Poetry: Oscar Wilde, "Silentium Amoris" →
sharingpoetry:
As often-times the too resplendent sun Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won A single ballad from the nightingale, So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail, And all my sweetest singing out of tune. And as at dawn across the level mead On wings…
Sharing Poetry: Jack Gilbert, "Failing and Flying" →
sharingpoetry:
Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew. It’s the same when love comes to an end, or the marriage fails and people say they knew it was a mistake, that everybody said it would never work. That she was old enough to know better. But anything worth doing is worth doing badly. Like being there…
Sharing Poetry: Wilfred Owen, "Anthem for Doomed... →
sharingpoetry:
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,— The shrill, demented choirs of…
Sharing Poetry: Rudyard Kipling, "If" →
sharingpoetry:
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated don’t…
June 2012
3 posts
7 tags
“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and...”
– Orson Welles
Sharing Poetry: Dahlia Ravikovitch, "Pride" →
sharingpoetry:
I tell you, even rocks crack, and not because of age. For years they lie on thier backs in the heat and the cold, so many years, it seems peaceful. They dont move, so the cracks stay hidden. A kind of pride. Years pass over them, waiting there. Whoever is going to shatter them hasn’t…
4 tags
“Memori itu satu-satunya fasilitas yang disediakan evolusi untuk menghukum...”
May 2012
15 posts
Sharing Poetry: Edgar Allan Poe, "Sonnet--Silence" →
sharingpoetry:
There are some qualities—some incorporate things, That have a double life, which thus is made A type of that twin entity which springs From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade. There is a two-fold Silence—sea and shore— Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places, Newly with grass…
Sharing Poetry: William Shakespeare, "My Mistress'... →
sharingpoetry:
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is…
Sharing Poetry: Taha Muhammad Ali, "There Was No... →
sharingpoetry:
We did not weep When we were leaving – for we had neither Time nor tears, and there was no farewell. We did not know At the moment of parting that it was parting, so where would our weeping have come from? We did not stay awake all night (and did not doze) the night of our leaving. That night we…
Sharing Poetry: Robert Frost, "My November Guest" →
sharingpoetry:
My Sorrow, when she’s here with me, Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful as days can be; She loves the bare, the withered tree; She walked the sodden pasture lane. Her pleasure will not let me stay. She talks and I am fain to list: She’s glad the birds are gone away, She’s…
Sharing Poetry: T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men" →
sharingpoetry:
Mistah Kurtz—he dead. A penny for the Old Guy I
We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats’ feet over broken glass In our dry…
2 tags
Aporia: Objectivity and Art →
mills:
Simen and I disagree about whether there can be anything “objective” about art. As a Popperian, I believe that the distinction between the objective and the subjective (or the relative) has been misunderstood and hyperbolized. Perhaps nothing is objective, but that does not mean that all is…
April 2012
18 posts
“Yang patah diujung kata, tumbuh dan patah kembali karena rasa”
– Efriani, April 28th
Sharing Poetry: Pat Mora, "Elena" →
sharingpoetry:
My Spanish isn’t good enough I remember how I’d smile listening to my little ones understanding every word they’d say, their jokes, their songs, their plots Vamos a pedirle dulces a mama. Vamos. But that was in Mexico. Now my children go to American high schools. They speak English. At…
Donald Hall, "The Poem"
sharingpoetry:
It discovers by night what the day hid from it. Sometimes it turns itself into an animal. In summer it takes long walks by itself where meadows fold back from ditches. Once it stood still in a quiet row of machines. Who knows what it is thinking?
(submitted by adrock-thurston)
“I don’t care about someone being intelligent; any situation between people, when...”
– Susan Sontag, quoted by Brendan Berg. She’s right, precisely and exactly.
It’s not the first element of her argument that’s arresting; any idiot knows that intelligence is overrated in all sorts of ways. But the insight that when we are real and human with each other we produce ‘intelligence’ —as...
Sharing Poetry: Mary Oliver, "A Bitterness" →
sharingpoetry:
I believe you did not have a happy life. I believe you were cheated. I believe your best friends were loneliness and misery, I believe your busiest enemies were anger and depression. I believe joy was a game you could never play without stumbling. I believe comfort, though you craved it, was…
March 2012
41 posts
