24th winter

December 17 2008 by Tony in Poetry |No Comments

24th winter

and all manner of fractured narrative has folded back onto itself
so that refractions of recent turmoils
when spoken slowly, in solemn ordinary language
make yesterdays seem less like tomorrows.
I bite the hair beneath my lower lip:
another winter beard which hides fragile flesh
until springtime calls again
and I can remember without inhabiting the past

Apology From The Center Of The Universe

December 5 2008 by Tony in School Papers |No Comments

What Is Blue, But Not What Blue Is
“The feelings which make a man call an object sublime are not sublime feelings, but feelings of veneration. If ‘this is sublime,’ is to be reduced at all to a statement about the speaker’s feelings, the proper translation would be ‘I have humble feelings.” (Lewis, 1943).

It is my [...]