This one is great; it’s called “Boy Bitten by a Lizard”
Archive for » November, 2009 «
My New Favorite Caravaggio
A Better Man
A better man would turn to lead to test
the movement of the leaves in human show
the half-life of the human heart at rest.
A better question than he’d ever guessed
is the logic and direction of the snows.
A better man would turn to lead to test.
The passion of the waves upon the crest,
with purpose readied, will presuppose
the half-life of the human heart at rest.
The mysteries of the stars that wink in jest
and fall for beauty, beauty commanding so,
a better man would turn to lead to test.
Who gives up that by which he is possessed
will quit his lab and run to love to know
the half-life of the human heart at rest.
Til one should bring him love, by Love’s request,
his sought-for sun is angling in the close.
A better man would turn to lead to test
the half-life of the human heart at rest.
Waking Up Early in the Morning
To My Missed Loved Ones:
Is there a keener pleasure than not waking up early?
The ancients are silent on the subject, because they were all awake in the morning, and–to my knowledge–miserably without coffee. Today I awoke from my most excellent slumber at an unreasonable hour in order to finish preparing for school. Since that time I have done nothing of the sort.
Of all the great night’s sleeps that I’ve had, of which there have been many, there are none that protrude in my brain-memory enough to recall specifics; however, I can recall most vividly several bad night’s sleeps with unholy accuracy and precision. For instance, the night I spent outside the columned keyhole of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, or an epic night on Peter’s Beach in Sorrento, or even a few times that I decided to sleep on the couch in the Bar. We remember the bad, not the good, but for some reason, I would rather remember those nights than the nights of drowsy bliss, since to look upon painful experience from from the past is usually an activity of happy remembrance for me.
In closing, no one remembers painful experiences on the “weak sauce” scale, they have to actually be painful, and so, I probably will not be remembering the pain of waking up early today.
PB
P.S. – I am learning French. It is nasal-intensive. I have a problem (called naivety) with giving phone numbers out to [tricksy] people. Can anyone give me that quote from the Aeneid about looking back and remembering something with joy?