Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Monday, July 06, 2015
from “Flying Point”
calls to witness
or that which
is only a declaration
of the limited
and the countable.
And the sun some tourist
wades out each morning
for a few moments
and to forget and drown.
And then later the moon
high as a pill
does its own work
emitting no light but re-guiding
light emitted by another:
six ships in the hour
follow each other
into some great
length of silence.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
by X. J. Kennedy
If you were a scoop of vanilla
And I were the cone where you sat,
If you were a slowly pitched baseball
And I were the swing of a bat,
If you were a shiny new fishhook
And I were a bucket of worms,
If we were a pin and a pincushion,
We might be on intimate terms.
If you were a plate of spaghetti
And I were your piping-hot sauce,
We’d not even need to write letters
To put our affection across,
But you’re just a piece of red ribbon
In the beard of a Balinese goat
And I’m a New Jersey mosquito.
I guess we’ll stay slightly remote.
"What We Might Be, What We Are" by X.J. Kennedy from Exploding Gravity. © Little Brown, 1992. (buy now)
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Monday, June 08, 2015
We also contributed some of the worst parts, too, and we even talk about it.
Intrigued?? Come to this installment of "Quakers and Cajun" to find out more.
"Cajun and Quakers" will meet at 6:30 pm on June 24 at Zydeco's Cajun at 11 E. Main in Mooresville. Quaker author, photographer, and retreat leader Brent Bill, a member of Spirituality & Practice’s Living Spiritual Teachers Project, will present a fast-paced, whimsical, and informational presentation about Quakers and how they helped make America!
There will be plenty of time to ask questions about Quakers and enjoy Zydeco's great food and libations. You'll find that the food won't be the only thing that's spicy that night!
Thursday, June 04, 2015
a song with no end
by Charles Bukowski
when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”
I know what he
I know what he
to be completely alive every moment
in spite of the inevitable.
we can’t cheat death but we can make it
work so hard
that when it does take
it will have known a victory just as
"a song with no end" by Charles Bukowski from The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps. © Black Sparrow Press, 2002 (buy now)