"Challenge to a Cynic"
You are a cynic.
Because show me where
I have ever said
That there's absolute proof
That nothing that man
Has ever conducted
Or engaged in,
Has had any effect,
Or no effect,
On climate change.
(To C. Gibson, ABC News, Sept. 11, 2008)
"On Reporters"
It's funny that
A comment like that
Was kinda made to,
I don't know,
You know ...
Reporters.
(To K. Couric, CBS News, Sept. 25, 2008)
(via cf, original source here)
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Friday, October 3, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Emily Dickinson, "It was not death, for I stood up"
It was not death, for I stood up,
And all the dead lie down;
It was not night, for all the bells
Put out their tongues, for noon.
It was not frost, for on my flesh
I felt siroccos crawl,
Nor fire, for just my marble feet
Could keep a chancel cool.
And yet it tasted like them all;
The figures I have seen
Set orderly, for burial,
Reminded me of mine,
As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key;
And I was like midnight, some,
When everything that ticked has stopped,
And space stares, all around,
Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,
Repeal the beating ground.
But most like chaos,--stopless, cool,
Without a chance or spar,--
Or even a report of land
To justify despair.
(in comic form here)
And all the dead lie down;
It was not night, for all the bells
Put out their tongues, for noon.
It was not frost, for on my flesh
I felt siroccos crawl,
Nor fire, for just my marble feet
Could keep a chancel cool.
And yet it tasted like them all;
The figures I have seen
Set orderly, for burial,
Reminded me of mine,
As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key;
And I was like midnight, some,
When everything that ticked has stopped,
And space stares, all around,
Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,
Repeal the beating ground.
But most like chaos,--stopless, cool,
Without a chance or spar,--
Or even a report of land
To justify despair.
(in comic form here)
Friday, August 8, 2008
good neighbors
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
--Robert Frost, "Mending Wall"
Labels:
difference,
existential,
others,
poetry,
Robert Frost,
walls
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Att: Obama
W.H. Auden, in "September 1, 1939," was on to something:
(Link)
Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.
(Link)
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