Gravity is king and Galileo knew what was what.
found via Kottke.
Showing posts with label feather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feather. Show all posts
Saturday, 31 May 2014
Tuesday, 8 October 2013
Sycamores
I came from a place with a hole in it,(Source: theparisreview)
my body once its body, behind a beard of hair.
And after I emerged, all dripping wet,
little drops came out of my eyes, touching its face.
I kissed its mouth; I bit it with my gums.
I lay on it like a snail on a cup,
my body, whatever its nature was,
revealed to me by its body. I did not know
I was powerless before a strange force.
I did not know life cheats us. All I knew,
nestling my head in its soft throat pouch,
was a hard, gemlike feeling burning through me,
like limbs of burning sycamores, touching
across some new barrier of touchability.
—Henri Cole, “Sycamores”
Art Credit Emilie Halpern via Booooooom
Labels:
back,
birth,
body,
feather,
henri cole,
poem,
poetry,
sycamores,
the paris review,
words
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)