In The Silence

Corn poem, should be read with Omnivore's Dilemma by Pollan, should be read aloud:

( Read more... )

One that is simply beautiful:( Read more... )

And one that is remarkably pertinent to me: ( Read more... )

But most hearts say, I want, I want,
I want, I want. My heart
is more duplicitous,
though to twin as I once thought.
It says, I want, I don't want, I
want, and then a pause.
It forces me to listen,

and at night it is the infra-red
third eye that remains open
while the other two are sleeping
but refuses to say what it has seen.

It is a constant pestering
in my ears, a caught moth, limping drum,
a child's fist beating
itself against the bedsprings:
I want, I don't want.
How can one live with such a heart?

Long ago I gave up singing
to it, it will never be satisfied or lulled.
One night I will say to it:
Heart, be still,
and it will.

Margaret Atwood

Apple festival today. I'm very emotionally swingy. It's fall; time to accept partings. I have floors and even a fridge at home, though downstairs has far to go yet. My cellphone makes me upset. Sunlight makes me happy. Swing, swing, swing. It was blood day three days ago, it continues to be messy - delayed this month because of stress, I think, and brought on by a night of peace. There is a delicate art to living that I have not yet mastered. Tonight I have been reading poetry aloud. I must do more of it. I woke up in my room this morning with the sunrise splashed against the wall and it made me feel good.