Love should not be written in stone but written in water. –Cattulus Very little is objectively known of the life of Gaius Valerius Catullus. It is believed that he was born in Verona in 84 B.C. to a wealthy and well-connected family. Catullus’ father was a friend of Julius Caesar. He died in Rome…
This poem was delivered yesterday via email. I recommend Poem-A-Day for exposure to a variety of poets, and as a form of therapy to counter the negativity that surrounds us. Deception Story by Solmaz Sharif Friends describe my DISPOSITION as stoic. Like a dead fish, an ex said. DISTANCE is a funny drug and…
I have a tattered paperback copy of Beyond Good and Evil in my briefcase. Its longevity is extended by a strip of silver duck tape long the spine. The frayed edges of the cover are protected by clear vinyl tape. The book was purchased when I was in college, and I am now rereading…
PROTEST To sin by silence, when we should protest, Makes cowards out of men. The human race Has climbed on protest. Had no voice been raised Against injustice, ignorance and lust, The Inquisition yet would serve the law, And guillotines decide our least disputes. The few who dare, must speak and speak again To…
My writing since the election of our president has disclosed my state of mind, that we are on the cusp of destruction. Time will tell. Nevertheless one must live one day at a time. Living in premonition of the apocalypse is no life at all. It’s a stuttering distraction from the path that one…
Earlier in my life, I lived day-to-day with little awareness of, scarce concern about the occupant of the White House. Lately, I really miss President Obama. He exhibited probity and propriety for eight years, in the teeth of stiff opposition. He observed that the cost of health care for a majority of Americans was…
Last night after dusk I saw the planet Venus suspended, a glowing large star, behind the silhouette of the tall maple in the distance. I felt the comfort of knowing that Venus remains for me, as it did for my father, my grandfather, and for so many past generations. The enjoyment of that glimpse…
VII This, then, is to be the way? Freedom’s candle will be snuffed out by freedom’s sworn defenders, chanting hourly the praise of freedom. Their praise will console the free waking in their prisons when the Bill of Rights has at last dissolved in the indifference of the great Self of force. When the…
There is a story that Czeslaw Milosz, on a return visit to his birthplace in Lithuania some 50 years after he had left, walked up to an oak tree and embraced it. An image of the return of the native, of course, but also an image of someone drawing strength – the psychic, moral…
It is Friday, midwinter. Out of the window here at Starbucks the sky is unrelieved gray, much salty damp asphalt, and concrete curbing. The architecture of our way of life is designed to accommodate the automobile. Automobiles, now cybernetic platforms, often cost as much as our parents paid for a house. Trees, shrubs, grass…
