Inspirations RSS




LOUISE GLÜCK 1943 - 2023

ARCHAIC FRAGMENT I was trying to love matter. I taped a sign over the mirror: You cannot hate matter and love form. It was a beautiful day, though cold. This was, for me, an extravagantly emotional gesture. .......your poem: tried, but could not. I taped a sign over the first sign: Cry, weep, thrash yourself, rend your garments— List of things to love: dirt, food, shells, human hair. ....... said tasteless excess. Then I rent the signs. AIAIAIAI cried the naked mirror.  

Continue reading



FRIDA KAHLO her story is told in paintings

    From the diary of Frida Kahlo: an intimate self-portrait... she writes out the symbolic association of a colour with the respective pencil onto the notebook page.   "I’ll try out the pencilssharpened to the point of infinitywhich always sees ahead: Green — good warm light Magenta — Aztec. old TLAPALI   blood of prickly pear, the   brightest and oldest [Brown —] color of mole, of leaves becoming   earth [Yellow —] madness sickness fear   part of the sun and of happiness [Blue —] electricity and purity love [Black —] nothing is black — really nothing [Olive —] leaves, sadness, science, the whole   of Germany is this color [Yellow —] more madness and mystery   all the ghosts wear   clothes of this color, or at   least their underclothes [Dark blue —] color...

Continue reading



YOUR SCENT I KNOW

  Lisoire adores Persian poet and seer, Hafiz, from the 14th Century.   YOUR SCENT I KNOW The ferry to any shore, to any land, to any realm, it is the wine cup, the heart.   An unseen vessel it is though to most, love, but so capable of travel, via a prayer or a soul's deep wish.   And your spirit's arms, they can reach out and really touch anything you want to hold.   It should be that way, and it is. For you, dear, all within time, are right before me. Your scent I know; your ways I shape.  

Continue reading



Mary Oliver, “When it’s over, I want to say: all my life / I was a bride married to amazement. / I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.” Oliver is among America's finest poets.

  “an indefatigable guide to the natural world, particularly to its lesser-known aspects.” wrote Maxine Kumin in the Women's Review of Books. Kumin also noted that Oliver “stands quite comfortably on the margins of things, on the line between earth and sky, the thin membrane that separates human from what we loosely call animal.”   Breakage by Mary Oliver I go down to the edge of the sea. How everything shines in the morning light! The cusp of the whelk, the broken cupboard of the clam, the opened, blue mussels, moon snails, pale pink and barnacle scarred— and nothing at all whole or shut, but tattered, split, dropped by the gulls onto the gray rocks and all the moisture gone. It's...

Continue reading