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homo homini lupus est

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Ezra Pound

The Garden

August 25, 2021August 25, 2021 / April Joy / Leave a comment

En robe de parade.

August 17, 2021August 17, 2021 / April Joy / Leave a comment

Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.

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drink me

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the wasteland

“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
“They called me the hyacinth girl.”
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

the archive

September 2021
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August 2020
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July 2019

marina

This form, this face, this life
Living to live in a world of time beyond me; let me
Resign my life for this life, my speech for that unspoken,
The awakened, lips parted, the hope, the new ships.
What seas what shores what granite islands towards my timbers
And woodthrush calling through the fog
My daughter.

burnt norton

And the old made explicit, understood
In the completion of its partial ecstasy,
The resolution of its partial horror.

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