...so light is healing itself of the when in...

Newspaper columnist, #music reporter, Haiku Society of America columnist: The #poetry & music of life covered by a journalist who learned to walk twice

[genedmyers]

dark darker— too many stars too far - Gary Hotham

[genedmyers]

twilight staples rust in the telephone pole - Alan Pizzarelli

[genedmyers]

We sin when our loves are out of order.

Saint Augustine

[timeshaiku]

A haiku from the article: French Auction House Trades Haughty for Hip

[itgivesitthew]

(via 2008050435 | Flickr)

The magnificent Qiu

[genedmyers]

ripples scattering the stars of a misplaced sky

[genedmyers]

Out of the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing was ever made...

Kant

[genedmyers]

Saturday night jazz singer just off beat just right

Robert Moyer

[genedmyers]

...what are most of them doing? Worshipping the teapot instead of drinking the tea!

Wei Wu Wei

[pixandum]

[pixandum]

8.1.15.

“Posthaste”

[genedmyers]

a spark falls to the ground darkens that’s it

Alan Pizzarelli

[genedmyers]

city street / the darkness inside / the snow-covered cars

Cor van den Heuvel

[mendandmakedo]

Dear Reader I am trying to pry open your casket with this burning snowflake. I’ll give up my sleep for you. This freezing sleet keeps coming down and I can barely see. If this trick works we can rub our hands together, maybe start a little fire with our idenification papers. I don’t know but I keep working, working half hating you, half eaten by the moon.

James Tate, Dear Reader. (via mendandmakedo)

[apoemaday]

A New Lifestyle

by James Tate

People in this town drink too much coffee. They’re jumpy all the time. You see them drinking out of their big plastic mugs while they’re driving. They cut in front of you, they steal your parking places. Teenagers in the cemeteries knocking over tombstones are slurping café au lait. Recycling men hanging onto their trucks are sipping espresso. Dogcatchers running down the street with their nets are savoring their cups of mocha java. The holdup man entering a convenience store first pours himself a nice warm cup of coffee. Down the funeral parlor driveway a boy on a skateboard is spilling his. They’re so serious about their coffee, it’s all they can think about, nothing else matters. Everyone’s wide awake but looks incredibly tired.

[theparisreview]

Bill Knott

Somebody just handed me this photo of a stiff I think I see smoke coming out of it

Why is everybody abusing this corpse? He props himself up to take it Back to the four walls of his skull With his bored frown and deadly gaze

He should be marble by now Kept around on lawns for all to recall His great works and deeds while yet deceased

Caller of the perfect crimes Death loves a shining mark

—James Tate, from Gerald Malanga’s feature “A Portfolio of Photographs of Writers Accompanied by Poems.”

[wordsnquotes]

Poetry is everywhere; it just needs editing.

James Tate (via wordsnquotes)

[genedmyers]

There are always two people in every picture: the photographer and the viewer.

Ansel Adams