I got a poem for my birthday!

I had best birthday ever! I've been busy and apt. searching, so didn't really plan anything. Thus nearly everything I got came as a surprise. Not only that, but my sisters copied out a poem for me! Thus giving me a legitimate reason to blog about my birthday. Here it is. I think 26 is going to be a great year.

The Music Makers, by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

We are the music makers
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lonely sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
Word losers and world forsakers
On whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory;
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And these with a new song's measure
Can trample an empire down.

We in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing
And Babel itself with our mirth,
And o'erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth:
For each age is a dream that is dying
Or one that is coming to birth.

I especially like the line "Babel...with our mirth." I will have to research Arthur O'Shaughnessy. I would include pictures of the cards I got, just in case anyone here tires of "deathless ditties." Especially as one of the cards had a picture of a little pink shoe! But my camera won't take close-ups.

A huge thank you to everyone for a great birthday! Also, thanks so much to everyone who has taken the time to comment on this blog. It's been really encouraging.

The Impossibility of Time

Thinking about all the time I waste and all the things I want to do:

Some things were meant
To be written slowly
Some things are hatched
Like a turtle
Out of eggs laid in sand
Carrying on their backs
Eons of a rivlet swam daily
Now an ocean.




Images via Marine Conservation Society

Lust

Does anyone else read books hind foremost? --

The last poem
Is always the one
I flip to first
Just at the
Moment I suspect
Things might
Get good; shattering
The effect of
Love.


Andy Warhol Lips via Retro To Go

The Red Herring Visits the Musuem

Image via Berry Falls

Result of a recent trip to MoMA:

The red herring
Visited the museum
As soon as he
Stepped inside
The red herring
Lost his mind
He forgot that
Pink was part
Of a flower
And repeated
It over and over
And over. Pink
Pink pink. The
Red herring
Climbed up
The wall and
Stared in
The mirror
For a long long
Time. Was it
Herring he
Saw or Red?

I've been thinking of writing a series of these red herring poems. Focused either on places and past-times in New York City or on exploring art/aesthetics. Ideas or thoughts on this?

MoMA by the way has a wonderful exhibition by Olafur Eliasson. Makes me believe in contemporary art again. His art is interactive in an irresistible and absolutely unforced way. So much of contemporary art is reactive and a little catty. Eliasson by contrast absorbs you (literally) in his art and... it's actually beautiful as well, in the way a glacier, forest, or waterfall is beautiful.

Striped Thoughts

Image via aboutsomethings

The promised poem about buying a dress. Or not:

Stripes in my mind
Running down the street
In Manhattan
The dress I didn't buy
The man I didn't love
Running down the streets
In high heels
Doesn't slow me down.

On being Keira Knightley

Image via Mail Online

It is 1:56am and
I've decided I'm
Going to be Keira
Knightley tomorrow
Morning. This is
Because at nearly
2am, I know I'm
Going to be in
A dreadful state
Waking up for
Work and will
Need inspiration.
Right now my
Thoughts won't
Stop and I don't
Care that each
Moment makes
The morning worse
But if I can be
Keira Knightley
Tomorrow morning
I'm willing to go to
Sleep for that.*

*Disclaimer: I am not Keira Knightley.

Pink Shoes in my Mind

In my mind
I wear pink shoes
With bows
My wardrobe though
Is drab with grays
And blacks and blues
Can anyone see
The pink bows in
My mind? No.

Confidence in an Age of Debt

Image via CNN

My confidence
Has the steely power
Of tanks disappearing
Into a desert mirage.

My confidence
Has the depth of rent
Food, dress, and tax
Put on a credit card.

My confidence
Has the persistence of
A slot machine still
Blinking after all is lost.

Poetry Overheard: Job lost

Image via Money Accumulator

One half of a conversation:

"Why did you ask for help?"--
"No, they never help you."
"Why are you leaving?"--
"Why did you get fired?"--
"Yes, that happens to people."--
"Is it money or ego?"--
"Don't cry because of ego,
Only because of money."

Blogger in the World Wide Web

Image via Getting things done in Academia

I had off from work, and I spent all day on this blog, and on other's blogs, trying to fish out good poetry. It has left a desperately unsatisfactory feeling. Here is my diagnosis:

The endless reels of words
And on a little crest
A blogger pokes his nose out
In a little spray of froth

Someone's half-hearted soul
Has found a partial birth
Someone's messy underwaters
Find an amphibious crawl.

Tomorrow I am going to do anything but blog.