Friday, December 26, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
come and find me
if i could trace the line that ran
between your smile and your sleight of hand
i'd guess that you put something up my sleeve
now every time i see your face the bells ring in a far-off place
we can find each other this way i believe
from the hills and up behind, my town
is naked from the horizon down
the curvature is pressed against the raise
and we walked up in the fields alone
the silence fell just like a stone
that got lost in the wild blue and the gravel grey
come and find me now
come and find me now
though i'm here in this far-off place
my air is not your time and space
i draw you close with every breath
you don't know it's right until it's wrong
you don't know it's yours until it's gone
i didn't know that it was home ‘til you up and left
come and find me now
come and find me now
i keep you in a flower vase
your fatalism, crooked face
with the daisies and the violet brocades
and i keep me in a vacant lot
in the ivy's forget-me-nots
hoping you will come and untangle me one of these days
come and find me now
come and find me now
josh ritter
if i could trace the line that ran
between your smile and your sleight of hand
i'd guess that you put something up my sleeve
now every time i see your face the bells ring in a far-off place
we can find each other this way i believe
from the hills and up behind, my town
is naked from the horizon down
the curvature is pressed against the raise
and we walked up in the fields alone
the silence fell just like a stone
that got lost in the wild blue and the gravel grey
come and find me now
come and find me now
though i'm here in this far-off place
my air is not your time and space
i draw you close with every breath
you don't know it's right until it's wrong
you don't know it's yours until it's gone
i didn't know that it was home ‘til you up and left
come and find me now
come and find me now
i keep you in a flower vase
your fatalism, crooked face
with the daisies and the violet brocades
and i keep me in a vacant lot
in the ivy's forget-me-nots
hoping you will come and untangle me one of these days
come and find me now
come and find me now
josh ritter
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The Best Time of the Day
Cool summer nights.
Windows open.
Lamps burning.
Fruit in the bowl.
And your head on my shoulder.
These the happiest moments in the day.
Next to the early morning hours,
of course. And the time
just before lunch.
And the afternoon, and
early evening hours.
But I do love
these summer nights.
Even more, I think,
than those other times.
The work finished for the day.
And no one can reach us now.
Or ever.
Raymond Carver
Cool summer nights.
Windows open.
Lamps burning.
Fruit in the bowl.
And your head on my shoulder.
These the happiest moments in the day.
Next to the early morning hours,
of course. And the time
just before lunch.
And the afternoon, and
early evening hours.
But I do love
these summer nights.
Even more, I think,
than those other times.
The work finished for the day.
And no one can reach us now.
Or ever.
Raymond Carver
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
In a landscape of having to repeat
In a landscape of having to repeat.
Noticing that she does, that he does and so on.
The underlying cause is as absent as rain.
Yet one remembers rain even in its absence and an attendant quiet.
If illusion descends or the very word you've been looking for.
He remembers looking at the photograph,
green and gray squares, undefined.
How perfectly ordinary someone says looking at the same thing or
I'd like to get to the bottom of that one.
When it is raining it is raining for all time and then it isn't
and when she looked at him, as he remembers it, the landscape moved closer
than ever and she did and now he can hardly remember what it was like.
Martha Ronk
In a landscape of having to repeat.
Noticing that she does, that he does and so on.
The underlying cause is as absent as rain.
Yet one remembers rain even in its absence and an attendant quiet.
If illusion descends or the very word you've been looking for.
He remembers looking at the photograph,
green and gray squares, undefined.
How perfectly ordinary someone says looking at the same thing or
I'd like to get to the bottom of that one.
When it is raining it is raining for all time and then it isn't
and when she looked at him, as he remembers it, the landscape moved closer
than ever and she did and now he can hardly remember what it was like.
Martha Ronk
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
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