Whoever had the thought to render bear fat and burn it in a lamp was touched a bit, or bored, or left alone to ponder light too long in some dank cabin: bear fat pops and stinks and brings no cheer to our condition. My brother Squire would burn such lamps to read the Scriptures: eyelids…

Poetry 365: A Contemplation of the Celestial World, Maurice Manning

Weekly web links of interest

Blogging

Productivity

Labor / Work

DIY / How to

Open House, Theodore Roethke

poetry365:

My secrets cry aloud.
I have no need for tongue.
My heart keeps open house,
My doors are widely swung.
An epic of the eyes
My love, with no disguise.

My truths are all foreknown,
This anguish self-revealed.
I’m naked to the bone,
With nakedness my shield.
Myself is what I wear:
I keep the spirit spare.

The anger will endure,
The deed will speak the truth
In language strict and pure.
I stop the lying mouth:
Rage warps my clearest cry
To witless agony.