How sad a welcome! To each voyagerSome ragged child holds up for sale a storeOf wave-worn pebbles, pleading on the shoreWhere once came monk and nun with gentle stir,Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer.Yet is yon neat trim church a grateful speckOf novelty amid the sacred wreckStrewn far and wide. Think, proud Philosopher!Fallen though she be, this Glory of the … [Read more...] about Iona – Upon Landing, By: William Wordsworth
Earworm, By: Corey Mesler
for Jane Smiley Mid-morning it’s still therelike a drawer full of shinycutlery. You take adrive but it follows you,as niggling as a chessset missing a bishop.You sing it to your partnerthinking you can pass it offlike a curse. If it lasts allday it’s yours for life. Friend,it’s always the worst calypso.You’re not gonna hum Mozart.You will learn to live with … [Read more...] about Earworm, By: Corey Mesler
Van Morrison Stanford’s Frost Amphitheater – Onsale Starts Today at 10 AM 12 July 2024, By: Gerard Sarnat
Over half century now…We have grooved thereTo The Grateful DeadWell as Bobby Dylan. Pre kids hippies’d smokePlus after then brought allThree of ‘em for picnicsBut were still dancing. So imagine how show’llGo with Van The ManWhile croons BrownEyed Girl/ Gloria? Almost 79 yourself, heWas born 13 daysEarlier than me--And performed Since a teenager: … [Read more...] about Van Morrison Stanford’s Frost Amphitheater – Onsale Starts Today at 10 AM 12 July 2024, By: Gerard Sarnat
Iona, By: William Wordsworth
On to Iona! What can she affordTo 'us' save matter for a thoughtful sigh,Heaved over ruin with stabilityIn urgent contrast? To diffuse the WORD(Thy Paramount, mighty Nature! and Time's Lord)Her Temples rose, 'mid pagan gloom; but why,Even for a moment, has our verse deploredTheir wrongs, since they fulfilled their destiny?And when, subjected to a common doomOf mutability, those … [Read more...] about Iona, By: William Wordsworth
Embarcadero Station, By: Mark J. Mitchell
A former trophy wife sniffs the blooms she boughtto stage some house she means to sell today.They told her this was one she had to moveto hang onto her crappy job. She thoughtabout him. Her house. What she gave away:She had her childhood surgically removedand dropped friends like bottles in a blue bin.He sloughed her quick as a snake sheds its skin.She rides public transport. … [Read more...] about Embarcadero Station, By: Mark J. Mitchell