Monthly Archives: October 2013

Korean Sijo Poem by Yi Myunghan

If on the pathways of dreams
a footprint could leave a mark,
The road by your window
though rough with rocks,
would soon wear smooth.
But in dreams paths take no footprints.
I mourn the more for that.

꿈에 다니는 길이 자최 곧 나량이면
님이 집 창 밖에 석로이라도 닳으련마는
꿈길이 자최 없으니 그를 슬허하노라

Yi Myunghan (1595-1645)

I Remember Loving You by Utah Phillips

I look at my brown suitcase
And think of all the places that I’ve been,
Railroad yards and prison guards,
All the dumpy little towns along the stem
And the whispering of the people
As they watch every move that I go through;
I remember all those things,
Mostly I remember loving you.

I remember loving you,
Back when the world was new,
And I think you loved me too,
I remember loving you,

The buckskin smells so the people tell
As we huddled in the boxcar from the rain;
Flashing lights that cut the night,
The railroad bull that pulled us off the train,
When the winter’s cold and the Norther blows
I’m huddled in the corner ’til I’m blue;
I remember all these things,
Mostly I remember loving you.

Winter streets where the frozen sleet
Comes soaking through the cardboard in my shoes,
Where the promised land might be a place
Where a man could find free cigarettes and booze,
And the alleyways full of ragged strays,
The doorway wine I tell my troubles to,
I remember all these things,
Mostly I remember loving you.

–Utah Phillips

Epigram #5

Give clowns their due
When the times distress

No circus would employ them
Mere realities annoy them

Their clown car home
Is called Congress.

Jonathan Franzen on Writing and Social Media

"It could be that my model of literature is simply outmoded, but I feel closer to Joyce with his “silence, cunning, and exile.” I worry that the ease and incessancy of communication with electronic media short-circuits the process whereby you go into deep isolation with yourself, you withdraw from the world so as to be able to hear the world better and know yourself better, and you produce something unique which you send out into the world and let communicate in a non-discursive way for you."

–Jonathan Franzen

Pease River

He watched what was left of the day through the front window. The brain like oak tree held the first stars in its black wickerwork. The storm earlier in the day rolled before him the full gospel of falling skies in the rain thick river. He watched a coyote sniff the far riverbank and look towards him. He pulled his boots on and grabbed the truck keys from the hook next to the cabin door. Mariah had been in the ground a week now and there was nothing to be done about it.

Time spent in the mind wasn’t good time. He knew that.

The parlous ride into town. The cluster of trucks nursing around the flat low tavern by the stock yards. His Dad’s truck was in the thick of them. That was one way not to deal with things.

Eye Rhyme Poem #2

Death at the Mall

If in slaughter there is laughter
Do we comb every womb,

Find what food sears the blood
To find the bomb before the tomb?

Anagrams For “Speaker Boehner”

banker pee horse

bear pees honker