Once the dark of night was dark, a black sky with stars and perhaps a moon. Now, what nature had intended as a time of rest, has been usurped by man-made lights. Those outside my window betray the never-ceasing activity of man. As I lie there on my bed, attempting to shut out the light,Continue reading “A New Poem 2024, An Old Poem 2004”
Tag Archives: writing
Story of the Copper Haired Girl Part II
The breeze came down from the topmost spire and wrapped its arms around her, sweeping her along and up the stairs. There on the topmost step, with the great bronze angel looming up on high, she stood and looked at the figures carved in white marble. And then she wasn’t sure whether they came downContinue reading “Story of the Copper Haired Girl Part II”
Story for a Copper Haired Little Girl
Part I: In the middle of the ocean in the middle of the sea in the middle of the plain a great rock rises up. Cliffs, smooth walls, there’s only one way in. One road you have to find as you wend your way along amidst the boulders and the cracks. Up high there’s aContinue reading “Story for a Copper Haired Little Girl “
August’s Heat: Part II
Even though the weather report says otherwise, the heat doesn’t show signs of abating. An early morning walk is still quite tolerable, perhaps to pick up a few groceries, go to the pharmacy or the bank. Otherwise, I stay home, where I realize it is time to get my next post in. In a senseContinue reading “August’s Heat: Part II”
August’s Heat
Because it’s August and because it’s hot Inspiration doesn’t seem to like the heat. Or maybe that I’ve been writing my blog since 2019. And sometimes I feel I don’t have anything new to say. Yes, it’s hot. But it was also hot when I was a child. Probably not quite as hot but thenContinue reading “August’s Heat”
A Bouquet of Summer
Someone left a bouquet of field flowers by my door. Flowers picked along a country lane. Years ago, my granddaughter picked a fistful of English daisies that insisted on growing on the lawn. They were not weeds for me, and for a day they smiled at me from the glass where I had put them.Continue reading “A Bouquet of Summer”
A Poet
One who seeks an answer to the eternal why of life. One who loves words and the sound of words, the meaning and the structure, the way in which they inter-relate, attempting with words to build something finite where nothing can be added and nothing can be subtracted. But what then are words? They areContinue reading “A Poet”
Final
A photo. One of many in my computer files. Past, present and future. Like all photos but some more than others. Two people, friends, in front of a house. The house is gone but while the friends have aged, they and their scarfs are still around. It’s Christmas. There’s a wreath on the door. TheContinue reading “Final”
More Thoughts: Seven
At times I do get into philosophical thought. While I’m not into philosophers, occasionally something does make me think more deeply. When I was at NYU, we were told to write an essay about our philosophy of life – I remember thinking – but do I even have a philosophy of life? Perhaps that wasContinue reading “More Thoughts: Seven”
More Thoughts: Six
The importance of memory. I’m not sure where I read this piece by Borges. Knowing that the author was blind, made it particularly poignant. While it didn’t apply directly to me, I now realize how, as we age, memory will be our life. Borges – L’Artefice “He (Hector) had never lingered over the pleasures ofContinue reading “More Thoughts: Six”
More Thoughts: Five
Then there was the guard at MOMA where I worked as a student when I was attending NYU. Before becoming secretary to Monroe Wheeler, my job was basically simple – working in the ticket booth or selling books. That didn’t stop me from looking at the paintings whenever I could, or looking down from the rooftopContinue reading “More Thoughts: Five”
Second Thoughts on Starting Anew
Once upon a time, say 20 years ago. When did it all begin? –and I don’t mean the eclipse. I mean when your life turns from being only what you plan and starts to include a dependence on what others think you should or shouldn’t do. Yesterday it was you who was boss, now graduallyContinue reading “Second Thoughts on Starting Anew”
Doors — Who Knows
You never know what lies behind a door. That’s the point. A door may conceal what was never meant to be seen. The odds and ends, the remnants, of some magnum opus. The mundane residue of what once was grand. An open door may suddenly reveal three levels of brick arches, piggyback one on theContinue reading “Doors — Who Knows”
Erika Bizzarri 