#41

Feb. 24th, 2008 10:07 am
[identity profile] frenchroast.livejournal.com
You have probably come across
those scales in planetariums
that tell you how much you
would weigh on other planets.

You have noticed the fat ones
lingering on the Mars scale
and the emaciated slowing up
the line for Neptune.

As a creature of average weight,
I fail to see the attraction.

Imagine squatting in the wasteland
of Pluto, all five tons of you,
or wandering around Mercury
wondering what to do next with your ounce.

How much better to step onto
the simple bathroom scale,
a happy earthling feeling
the familiar ropes of gravity,

157 pounds standing soaking wet
a respectful distance from the sun.
 

~Billy Collins, "Earthling"

#38

Feb. 21st, 2008 08:45 am
[identity profile] frenchroast.livejournal.com
 All morning in the strawberry field
They talked about the Russians...
~Sylvia Plath

#33

Feb. 16th, 2008 12:01 pm
[identity profile] frenchroast.livejournal.com

 So we'll go no more a-roving
     So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
     And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
     And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
     And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
     And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
     By the light of the moon.

~Lord Byron

#26

Feb. 9th, 2008 12:18 am
[identity profile] frenchroast.livejournal.com
...He travels on, a solitary Man;
His age has no companion. On the ground
His eyes are turned, and, as he moves along,
They move along the ground; and, evermore,
Instead of common and habitual sight
Of fields with rural works, of hill and dale,
And the blue sky, one little span of earth
Is all his prospect...

~William Wordsworth, The Old Cumberland Beggar

#14

Jan. 28th, 2008 08:35 am
[identity profile] frenchroast.livejournal.com
No sky
no earth – but still
snowflakes fall.
 

~Hashin 

#7

Jan. 21st, 2008 10:40 am
[identity profile] frenchroast.livejournal.com
That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompense. For I have learned
To look on nature...

~William Wordsworth

#3

Jan. 17th, 2008 09:36 am
[identity profile] frenchroast.livejournal.com
You rice-field maidens!
The only things not muddy
Are the songs you sing.

~Raizan

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