What ever happened to enjoying the beauty of words for their own sake?

This poem feels what I can never say to Boon,
about how i want to light a silence in my head,
but he’ll simply think its some new brand of cigarettes…

Crossing
by Kim Addonizio
from Poetry Daily

I stash my heart in my boot.
I’ve got a broken knife for you.
You’re not dying for love,
you’re not even injured.
Not a scratch, not a nick,
no throb in the bones,
no slight headache
starting behind the eyes.
I’m walking on a dead ocean
all the fish in my body in free fall.
I adore you sinkingly.
You’re what. You’re whom.
In every room. A dog starts racketing:
it’s you. Siren
ratcheting off the blue.
I tie myself to the table.
I bolt myself to the bed.
When the phone’s black call comes
I light another silence in my head.

After reading this article,
I was inspired to write a few lines of verse

No grass in Greenland

Everybody in Greenland knows somebody
who has tried to commit suicide;
it must be the loneliness of the country.

All that ice creaking and shoving,
whispering for youths to go under
the water, where the silent glacier is king;

but only until the day when everything melts,
and the land is no longer white and whole,
but slides down, defeated, into

a warming ocean, swimming with souls,
looking like a large ice sculpture fissured
into the shape of a broken heart.

Look! My new desk at the office!

Finally, my career is seeing some progress! Philip has been really helpful as well, helping me to settle in at the publishing company. Copy editing isn’t the most glamourous job in the world, but it pays the bills. It helps when you have fun colleagues, like Philip. I shudder to think how boring the office would be without him around.

I wonder if Boon will go to the Jan and Elly English Awareness Pronunciation Workshop when he comes back. I think it will be useful for him.

Enough blogging! Off to lunch with Philip! I am famished!

Today has been a random day,
but just thinking about it,
the one thing that connects us, and disconnects us at the same time, is life.
These couple of lines from Louise Gluck stuck with me all of today…

To get born, your body makes a pact with death,
and from that moment, all it tries to do is cheat—
- From ‘A Slip of Paper,’ Louise Gluck

Someone else said the minute we are born we start to die.
It is rather pessimistic if you only look at life that way,
but it is true that life isn’t promised, yet the human instinct
is towards life, and so no matter what, we just keep on cheating…
in the most honest ways, of course.

A more light hearted post today.
Can’t be in evil rant mood all the time.

In a Beautiful Country
by Kevin Prufer
from Poetry Daily

A good way to fall in love
is to turn off the headlights
and drive very fast down dark roads.

Another way to fall in love
is to say they are only mints
and swallow them with a strong drink.

Then it is autumn in the body.
Your hands are cold.
Then it is winter and we are still at war.

The gold-haired girl is singing into your ear
about how we live in a beautiful country.
Snow sifts from the clouds

into your drink. It doesn’t matter about the war.
A good way to fall in love
is to close up the garage and turn the engine on,

then down you’ll fall through lovely mists
as a body might fall early one morning
from a high window into love. Love,

the broken glass. Love, the scissors
and the water basin. A good way to fall
is with a rope to catch you.

A good way is with something to drink
to help you march forward.
The gold-haired girl says, Don’t worry

about the armies, says, We live in a time
full of love. You’re thinking about this too much.
Slow down. Nothing bad will happen.