Friday, March 29, 2013
TEDxSoCal - WIFE The Grey Ones
The Couriers
The word of a snail on the plate of a leaf?
It is not mine. Do not accept it.
Acetic acid in a sealed tin?
Do not accept it. It is not genuine.
A ring of gold with the sun in it?
Lies. Lies and a grief.
Frost on a leaf, the immaculate
Cauldron, talking and crackling
All to itself on the top of each
Of nine black Alps.
A disturbance in mirrors,
The sea shattering its grey one--
Love, love, my season.
by Sylvia Plath
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After Love There is no magic any more, We meet as other people do, You work no miracle for me Nor I ...
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After Love There is no magic any more, We meet as other people do, You work no miracle for me Nor I ... -
Rain I stand under a leafless tree more still, in this mouse-pattering thrum of rain, than cattle shifting in the field. It is more d...
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