birthday blooms

most beautiful bouquet i've ever received,

from my winner of a bf G on my birthday.

they arrived with blooms closed, like this...

... and have been the gift that keeps on giving

over the last few days, as the blooms open more fully.

i'm such a lucky girl.

superstition

I have painted a picture of a ghost
Upon my kite,
And hung it on a tree.

Later, when I loose the string
And let it fly,
The people will cower
And hide their heads,

For fear of the God
Swimming in the clouds.

-- amy lowell

come my cantilations

Come my cantilations,

Let us dump our hatreds into one bunch and be done with them,
Hot sun, clear water, fresh wind,
Let me be free of pavements,
Let me be free of the printers.

Let come beautiful people
Wearing raw silk of good colour,
Let come the graceful speakers,
Let come the ready of wit,
Let come the gay of manner, the insolent and the exulting.

We speak of burnished lakes,
And of dry air, as clear as metal.

- ezra pound

with bells on

2012 is proving to be the year of weddings - six invitations so far!

have been to some beautiful ones the past few years. one of the best

parts of watching everyone else get married (besides the maaaad partying)

is getting to pick and choose your favorite pieces/decorations/ideas (including

creative ways of including your closest friends in the wedding

without having fifteen people standing by your side at the 'altar') .

one of my friends from med school just sent out these

invitations - gold envelopes with a GORGEOUS font. picture doesn't do it justice.

i didn't open it for thirty solid minutes because it was so pretty.

what things want

You have to let things
Occupy their own space.
This room is small,
But the green settee

Likes to be here.
The big marsh reeds,
Crowding out the slough,
Find the world good.

You have to let things
Be as they are.
Who knows which of us
Deserves the world more?

- robert bly

travelling

This is the spot:—how mildly does the sun
Shine in between the fading leaves! the air

In the habitual silence of this wood
Is more than silent: and this bed of heath,

Where shall we find so sweet a resting-place?

Come!—let me see thee sink into a dream
Of quiet thoughts,—protracted till thine eye

Be calm as water when the winds are gone
And no one can tell whither.—my sweet friend!

We two have had such happy hours together

That my heart melts in me to think of it.

- william wordsworth

(7 am in my bedroom, with my fellow fur-brained

conquistador of the morning at my side, or purring on my stomach...)

we dogs of a thursday off

The wine of uncharted days,

Their unsteady stance against the working world,

The intense intoxication of nothing to be done,
A day off,

The dance of the big-hearted dog
In us, freed into a sudden green, an immense field:

Off we go, more run than care, more dance—
If a polka could be done not in a room but straight

Ahead, into the beautiful distance, the booming
Sound of the phonograph weakening, but our legs

Getting stronger with their bounding practice:

This day, that feeling, drunkenness

Born of indecision, lack of focus, but everything
Forgiven: Today is a day exposed for what it is,

A workday suddenly turned over on its back,
Hoping to be rubbed.

-- alberto rios

ring out, wild bells

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

The flying cloud, the frosty light:

The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,

Ring, happy bells, across the snow:

The year is going, let him go;

Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind

For those that here we see no more;

Ring out the feud of rich and poor,

Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;

Ring in the nobler modes of life,

With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

The faithless coldness of the times;

Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes

But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,

The civic slander and the spite;

Ring in the love of truth and right,

Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;

Ring out the thousand wars of old,

Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand;

Ring out the darkness of the land,

Ring in the Christ that is to be.

-- lord alfred tennyson

(a mix of camera phone and SLR photos taken in idaho, kansas, missouri and illinois

during my travels this winter)

talk

My body is

A little

Green sea.

Bears bathe

In it

Then go to

Sleep in the

Basement.

A four-wheeler

Slams past,

And then the

Sea splashes

Around and

Around.

O little sea,

O my body,

Sit here with me

While I just talk.

-- noelle kocot

a young poet

For begging beauty
one can hardly blame the artist

sleeping like butter in the sun
taking no action for action

some prefer being a yellow rose petal
I learned when I traveled

the young poet saying a prayer
is a form of panic

- jane miller

(from trips to boston to visit g and

our jaunt down to lil rhody)