DAILY PHOTO: Symmetry
2
Morning Glow [Haiku]
a bloom falls to earth;
lit up by the morning sun,
it glows… for a time.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
BOOKS: “Sweet Tooth, Vol. 4: Endangered Species” by Jeff Lemire
Sweet Tooth, Vol. 4: Endangered Species by Jeff LemireMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Publisher Site: DC Vertigo
Heading north to solve the mystery of Gus (the titular deer-boy “hybrid” that some call Sweet Tooth, the first-known hybrid child and one who Dr. Singh believes may be integral to understanding the disease that swept through humanity at the same time hybrids started being born,) the ragtag group of hybrid kids and human chaperones runs into its first snag. The group stumbles upon a place that may offer the security and resources needed to live comfortably (i.e. for a post mega-pandemic wasteland.) This threatens to split up the group, most of which longs for the safety and sustainability that this place appears to provide. But the reader is presented crumbs of unease about this place. It feels like this sanctuary might harbor a dirty secret.
I continue to enjoy this series. I didn’t find the arc as satisfying as some of the volumes. It is a thriller, and we are given crucial new information by the book’s end, but the central question of the story arc remains unanswered. That said, the story does a fantastic job of building up internal tension as well as creating unease in the reader. If you’ve enjoyed the story so far, you will want to continue onward.
View all my reviews
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“The Paradox” by Paul Laurence Dunbar [w/ Audio]
I am the mother of sorrows,
I am the ender of grief;
I am the bud and the blossom,
I am the late-falling leaf.
I am thy priest and thy poet,
I am thy serf and thy king;
I cure the tears of the heartsick,
When I come near they shall sing.
White are my hands as the snowdrop;
Swart are my fingers as clay;
Dark is my frown as the midnight,
Fair is my brow as the day.
Battle and war are my minions,
Doing my will as divine;
I am the calmer of passions,
Peace is a nursling of mine.
Speak to me gently or curse me,
Seek me or fly from my sight;
I am thy fool in the morning,
Thou art my slave in the night.
Down to the grave will I take thee,
Out from the noise of the strife;
Then shalt thou see me and know me --
Death, then, no longer, but life.
Then shalt thou sing at my coming,
Kiss me with passionate breath,
Clasp me and smile to have thought me
Aught save the foeman of Death.
Come to me, brother, when weary,
Come when thy lonely heart swells;
I'll guide thy footsteps and lead thee
Down where the Dream Woman dwells.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
DAILY PHOTO: Trailside Tree
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Tree in Fog [Haiku]
the mountain fog
cannot keep the secrets
of the bare tree.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“The Blue-Green Stream” by Wang Wei (Lowell version) [w/ Audio]
Every time I have started for the Yellow Flower River,
I have gone down the Blue-Green Stream,
Following the hills, making ten thousand turnings.
We go along rapidly, but advance scarcely one hundred li.
We are in the midst of a noise of water,
Of the confused and mingled sounds of water broken by stones,
And in the deep darkness of pine-trees.
Rocked, rocked,
Moving on and on,
We float past water-chestnuts
Into a still clearness reflecting reeds and rushes.
My heart is clean and white as silk;
it has already achieved Peace;
It is smooth as the placid river.
I long to stay here, curled up on the rocks,
Dropping my fish-line forever.
NOTE: This version was translated by Florence Ayscough and adapted by Amy Lowell in the book: Fir-Flower Tablets (1921) New York: Houghton Mifflin, p. 123
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
DAILY PHOTO: Shrine, Gergeti Trinity Church
Image
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Mountain Deception [Haiku]
I glance upward;
the mountain seems closer;
I feel colder.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
“Above the blossoms sing the orioles” by Han-Shan [w/ Audio]
Above the blossoms sing the orioles:
Kuan kuan, their clear notes.
The girl with a face like jade
Strums to them on her lute.
Never does she tire of playing --
Youth is the time for tender thoughts.
When the flowers scatter and the birds fly off
Her tears will fall in the spring wind.
Translated of Burton Watson in: Cold Mountain: 100 poems by the T’ang poet Han-Shan, New York: Columbia University Press, p. 22
Tiger Riding for Beginners 