From Julian Martin on mining in West Virginia

From inspiration to prompt, what story does this inspire in you? I know I have not always been courageous, a few times I’ve been scared […] Read More

from “The Book of Longing”, a poem by Leonard Cohen

  From inspiration to prompt, what story does this inspire in you? My page was too white My ink was too thin The day wouldn’t […] Read More

“Museum Piece” by Hayden Carruth

One of the things I love most about reading literary non-fiction is that the works become cryptic maps to other great works.  Thanks to Wendell Berry […] Read More

Sin eating

Sin eater

 

 

The sin eaters are long since gone,
choked to death on the generational build up
that clogged the Faith.

Sunday Sentence: 6 December 2015, Maura Dooley

Sunday Sentence: The sentence(s) that touched me this week, out of context and without commentary. Inspired by David Abrams at The Quivering Pen.

life under water maura dooley

“A word spoken, a word withheld,
tells your story,

sprinter of ice, splinter of grief’
splinter of love.”

from Maura Dooley’s Leaf in the collection of poetry Life Under Water

Sunday Sentence: 27 September 2015 from Maura Dooley

Sunday Sentence: The sentence(s) that touched me this week, out of context and without commentary. Inspired by David Abrams at The Quivering Pen.

Maura Dooley (left) with Azita Ghahreman (right) Maura Dooley (left) with Azita Ghahreman (right)[/caption]

“Pay no attention to fashion. Read, read, read: read across centuries, traditions and continents. Don’t get caught up in any of the silly arguments that spring up: read poetry, write poetry and don’t forget to live a little.”

from Forward Arts Foundation In Conversation with Maura Dooley  by Maura Dooley

Lying legs

cricket's eye view

Tonight, the crickets are singing their beautiful lies
Of a world not half dead
At least that’s what I hear in their cryptic lyrics.

Does that make me a romantic?

It’s hard to know for sure.

oh well…Crickets freak me out anyway.
One really shouldn’t sing through their legs if they want to be taken seriously.

Sunday Sentence, 12 April 2015

The Mad Farmer Poems

And the ghost
of Arthur Moore, who taught me Chaucer,
returns in the night to say again:
‘Let me tell you something, boy.
An intellectual whore is a whore.’

from the poem Some Further Words found in the collection The Mad Farmer Poems by Wendell Berry

Sunday Sentence: The sentence(s) that touched me this week, out of context and without commentary. Inspired by David Abrams at The Quivering Pen.

Sunday Sentence, 15 March 2015

  京にても (kyou nitemo) 京なつかしや (kyou natsukashi ya) 時鳥 (hototogisu) from A Haiku by Matsuo Bashô Translation from Robert Hass Even in Kyōto— hearing the cuckoo’s cry— […] Read More

Sunday Sentence 15 February 2015

  Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo / y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado, / no me sostiene el pan, […] Read More