In Praise of Idioms: Idioms and Words that Remain
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Dear Friends, Here lie the dreams we put to rest. And there, the things we meant to say. Further on, those bits of faith. Mindless things, they bore no pain and easily went to their graves. It's we who are not quite the same. (With thanks to the editors at The Hudson Review, who not only nominated this poem for a Pushcart, but also have selected it for their New Year's card this year).
A Few Things Buzzing Among the Literati: Everything You Need to Know About Smarm Gioia, Longing That Franco guy FEUDS! It was a hard thing to undo this knot. The rainbow shines, but only in the thought Of him that looks. Yet not in that alone, For who makes rainbows by invention? And many standing round a waterfall See one bow each, yet not the same to all, But each a hand's breadth further than the next. The sun on falling waters writes the text Which yet is in the eye or in the thought. It was a hard thing to undo this knot. - Hopkins
Happy to learn that two of my poems have been nominated for a Pushcart this year. Thank you to Ronald Kourey of the Hudson Review, and to the editors at Kin. Also, it's a snow day. From Facebook: In an era of the selfie, the silent bankrupcy, the family-scatter, an electronic loneliness and the yearning to be known, Facebook's anodyne: it can become: self-inventer and self-reviser, free shrink, free publicist, substitute mom & uncle, and dreamworld frat pack (someone grates? just skip 'em, block 'em, unfriend 'em). There's a kind of greed for counts without encounters.. how many "friends" he has! If you hate to hurt feelings, and say yes all the time to requests-- you may actually not know even half of them; if you think of friends as meaning something more intimate, you can't find them for the smileys. Now and then there are bursts of good writing (not in this immediate posting, I assure you, I'm too cranky today to be...