Maya Angelou – Equality – International Women’s Day.
I empty my pockets. I know dramatic. I say goodbye. I open the family album and look at myself as a boy.
I love my wife but send her away.
I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. – I am ok with the slightly less perfect espresso today, and most days. How can I sing? For example, time does not work the same way it does in day time. At night I turn back the clocks;
I love my wife but send her away.
( Log Out / I say my own name. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. The hours have done their job.
( Log Out / I empty myself of the names of others.
The hours have done their job.
into the milky rooms of clouds. I say my own name.
We have done what we wanted. Mark Strand, The Remains.
Time tells me what I am. You are fast asleep, curled up in my sheets, like a flower just before budding. – Former director of FBI testified in front of the US Senate Intelligence Committee. Change ). into the milky rooms of clouds. I empty myself of my life and my life remains.
And now we are here. Mark Strand – The Remains – One Poem At A Time Mark Strand – The Remains June 13, 2017 ~ Peyman A. ( Log Out / At night I turn back the clocks; I open the family album and look at myself as a boy. Change ).
I say my own name.
Mark Strand is a poet nostalgic and homesick ruminating over the years, recollecting and reminiscing childhood days spent in the company of mother, father and others of the household felt in Canada and America and the same bonding lengthens it with the affection of his wife and daughter in which he basks tor recreate and repose in.
( Log Out / – Danny, a man I met in the bar last night told me that he has two motorcycles and I need to buy a decommissioned naval ship, gut it, and leave in it.
What good does it do?
I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. ( Log Out / I start reading, you situate yourself on my chest, then there’s the sweet purring few lines in. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. ( Log Out /
– A lot happens in life between midnight and sunrise. I am glad I asked. Change ), You are commenting using your Twitter account. but not all the days. I say my own name.
( Log Out / I empty my pockets. I change and I am the same. because your fire reminds me of a true-self: A moss in disguise as a poet. Change ), You are commenting using your Google account. I tell you why the moth don’t paint their wings, and it is not because they don’t like the colors, but because they need to move through the dark night without being interrupted, to deliver their first and last kiss to the flame, they ought to be in disguise, which is to wear darker colors. Maybe that’s a good thing.
Change ), You are commenting using your Google account.
My parents rise out of their thrones Into the milky rooms of clouds. We can’t escape ourselves. I empty myself of the names of others.
– Evan, had a birthday and we had shots. Two nights ago I was thinking about how I like that I can put you to sleep with my poetry, and my inexhaustible energy. I say goodbye.
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. – Sun is shinning and I had an espresso that was drawn a few seconds too long. Mark Strand, Coming to This. Who are you?
I empty myself of the names of others.
I look at you and smile, I imagine you are skipping among the green fields of wheat, or tasting the most delicious fruits in a farm in Mexico.
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Is this supposed to be hopeful?
I change and I am the same. What good does it do? The words follow each other downwind.
– I am listening Bob Dylan.
“I empty myself of my life and my life remains.”.
I empty myself of my life and my life remains.-Mark Strand. I open the family album and look at myself as a boy. The hours have done their job. How can I sing? I say goodbye.
The words follow each other downwind. But the night is dark and dramatic.
Emily Dickinson – I’m Nobody! So yes, I like putting you to sleep with my poetry. I tell you (while you are asleep) about moth’s love story with the flame, the devil’s daughter, and how eternal their love story is. Margaret Atwood – In Love with Raymond Chandler, Walt Whitman – SONGS OF INSURRECTION. The dinner is ready and we cannot eat. •. – A Tibetan Monk walked across the street, I saw the monk from my office window. Nick Lantz – How to Dance When You Do Not Know How to Dance, Frank O’Hara – Meditations in an Emergency, E.E Cummings – who knows if the moon’s a balloon, Rilke – [How far from us everything is, and long gone], Omar Khayyám – wilderness is paradise now.
Even though you fall asleep before I can tell you of the virtues of the moth, I keep on going.
– Alex, another man I met in the bar told me his cousin committed suicide recently, and he sad for his family. The words follow each other downwind. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. My parents rise out of their thrones
Number 1, Langston Hughes – Let America Be America Again.
( Log Out / This is true.
At night I turn back the clocks; So depending on one’s life I suppose it could be good or sad thing. I empty myself of my life and my life remains. Change ), You are commenting using your Facebook account. Mushrooms of Loneliness & What To Do With Them. – I recited a William’s line when I was talking to someone on how we never how aches where and when – “We don’t know what wars are going on when the soul meets the bone”.
The hours have done their job. When I first read this poem, I felt very sad as it made me realize how little control I have over the world. He has written for nearly every outdoor magazine, has authored or co-authored 14 books, is a filmmaker and podcaster, and happily lives the life of an outdoor generalist, hunting & fishing for whatever is in season, wherever he is at the moment. The Remains by Mark Strand.
What good does it do? Adrienne Rich – Twenty One Love Poems No.
2, Lucille Clifton – poem in praise of menstruation, Derek Walcott – Love After Love – Adieu Derek, EEC – ‘pity this busy monster, manunkind’. On The Late Indecent Liberties Taken With The Remains Of Milton. I empty myself of the names of others. I love my wife but send her away. Mary Oliver – The Poet with His Face in His Hands, Lawrence Ferlinghetti – [The world is a beautiful place]. The Remains by Mark Strand The Remains.
I empty my pockets.
How can I sing?
What good does it do? I tell you how the moth travels all through the night, to reach to the flame; residing a top of a candle on rumi’s writing desk, somewhere in the old world. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. This is an analysis of the poem The Remains that begins with: I empty myself of the names of others. I love my wife but send her away.
This is the story we learn in Iran from Rumi and other Sufi’s writings. And then I snap out of it. I empty my pockets. I empty myself of the names of others. The words follow each other downwind.
– A lot happens in bars at nights pass midnight.
I say goodbye. My parents rise out of their thrones Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Change ), You are commenting using your Facebook account. of each other, and we have welcomed grief. I take my time with my story telling, you are sleeping, and time is moving slower anyway.
At night I turn back the clocks; I open the family album and look at myself as a boy.
Time tells me what I am.
We have discarded dreams, preferring the heavy industry. Then we grow up, and learn the real reason why moth are drawn to the flame and light, then we get wiser and go back to Rumi again.
The hours have done their job.
– Somewhere in cape town someone is playing the guitar now.
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