My life has been asphalt and gravel like all lives– Kei Miller, There is an Anger that Moves
From 'The Duchess of Malfi'
What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut With diamonds? or to be smothered With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls? I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits; and ‘tis found They go on such strange geometrical hinges, You may open them both ways: any way, for heaven sake, So I were out of your whispering. Tell my brothers, That I perceive...
The power of transformation is endless.– Lady Gaga
I met Murder on the way—– Shelley
Callous is something that hardening leaves behind– Gertrude Stein
The poet’s solitude isn’t romantic, though, it is constant bewilderment– Ishion Hutchinson
'Earth is on the back of an ageless iguana'
I’ve been re-reading Christian Campbell’s book of poems Running the Dusk. One of the poems in the book is one I keep coming back to again and again, ‘Iguana’. It begins like a standard occasional poem: “My friend from Guyana / was asked in Philadelphia / if she was from “Iguana.”” What follows is a sombre affirmation of the value of the Caribbean identity.[[MORE]] The...
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?– Wilfred Owen, ‘Anthem for Doomed Youth’