Friday, June 24, 2011

Key - A.Dumas

"There is neither happiness nor unhappiness in this world; there is only the comparison of one state with another. Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss. It is necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live.....the sum of all human wisdom will be contained in these two words: Wait and Hope."

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

06/22/2011 - Nabokov

"The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible"
Vladimir Nabokov



Thursday, June 9, 2011

Journey

The book is empty
No poems, no story

Thoughts might be transferred
from the written to the blank

Fascinated words of others
Trying to write my own.
Mystery is my mind,

The past is hectic
heaps of data misplaced
soon to be sorted
levels of happiness, levels of wisdom

The journey, new adventure
Remembering and applying
Going back to solve the future
My present diary will tell

-Claudia Luna

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

We Sleep Beneath Birds - Amanda Joy

I didn’t catch your name.
Still,
here I am,
wondering what the point is;

In this perfection
we grow like fingernails
Will we ever stop?
No.
We might be cut or nibble-bitten
or ground down by work.
Yet we become and become
Until we die
and then maybe
we become something else,
then, some more.
I’d buy that book.
Has it been written?
The one that tells us what happens
when we stop becoming.
Some of us think we have
already.
Yes, like death
Truth.
If you find it I will lay with you
and let you scratch my back
with your fingernails,
while I search for it.
Yes
it is an invisible word,
there, not here.
So tonight, without names
We will sleep beneath birds.
Unlike umbrellas, our heads
above our bodies
swallowing glittering tears
before pride’s useless withered hand.
In the face of this
pinnacle of pleasing angles
obscuring our view
of details not meaningless.
As none we are.
As we are.
Hand-tinted as stars met
by ladders that end
twenty feet above the ground.
Your name is a script, illiterate.
On a delta of my hand’s palms
let me gift you
my resistance,
yes,
so we meet


*Amanda Joy