I'm on a bit of a poetry binge this week, and Monday afternoon found me lying on the luxurious shag rug of a friend's tiny apartment, re-reading some of my favourite poets (ee cummings, William Carlos Williams, Czeslaw Milosz). It is an adventure to re-open a collection and wonder what will pop out, knowing something you've read before will strike you afresh, or you will be reminded of a particularly moving line that you had somehow forgotten. Like this piece from Milosz, which floors me. Every. damn.* time. The first time I read it, I lay in a park with a friend (this same friend who offered me her rug as my reading burrow) and demanded that I share it with her. I spoke it carefully, and then, into the post-reading silence, I slammed the book shut, and dropped it as loudly as I could onto the grass. "I'm never reading anything again," I declared, "What else is there to say?" Esse I looked at that face, dumbfounded. The lights of métro st...
Agreed.
ReplyDeleteMy current list of "things that are difficult" would look really similar: 1) Being. (Yeah. Just "being"...) 2) Conversations with new friends. 3) Knowing. (too much, and too little...) 4) Being Patient. 5) Being Patient some more. 6) Waiting. 7) Going to bed on time :)
Love you, friend.
I agree, good list.
ReplyDeleteto add on...
8. watching others go through pain and not being able to help
9. keeping chocolate in the house and not eating it.
loni,
ReplyDeletehow did i not know that you blog AND that you read my blog!?!?! this has made me extraordinarily happy. i also could add your first item onto my list. as for the chocolate one, i'm surprisingly disciplined on that front.
aimee,
hearts. hearts, hearts, hearts.
Is there any possibility these overgrown children are of the male persuasion?
ReplyDeleteAnd, yes, waiting sucks...especially when it involves overgrown children.