Source: (via Newthom)
Tag: New Year
Running. Day 1, 2017.
Day 1, 2017.
A morning for reflection, lallygagging, and awe of a poem written by Stanley Kunitz: “still-wet words…scribbled on the blotted page: ‘Light splashed …’
Still-wet words. Light splashed. Wow.
Sun beams pour in through the window, light splashes but does not lift this load…God, it’s so warm under these covers. How about reading, watching movies, and remaining horizontal?
10am. I need to exercise. Now! Sigh. What a state of mind on Day 1.
Mile 1
How about New Year’s resolutions? How about Not? You’ve long since given up on Resolutions. You know the loop. Commit. Attempt. Renege in less than 30 days. Then self-flagellate for the remaining 11 months. Who needs it? Really?
Mile 2
I appreciated the punch line of Try a New Year’s Revolution: “I will work toward better days for myself…May Januarys be about self-acceptance, not self-improvement.” LOVE THAT.
Mile 3
“May Januarys be about self-acceptance, not self improvement.” I don’t think I can do that. I don’t think I can “do” self acceptance. OMG. I’m on another doom loop. This could be harder than setting New Year’s Resolutions. Continue reading “Running. Day 1, 2017.”
to see a good end in all that and to find a good beginning in myself
I had gone back again to my little house and stood up on its roof and wanted to see a good end in all that and to find a good beginning in myself. And now, let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been…And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been…
~ Rainer Maria Rilke, from a letter to his wife in The Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke: 1892-1910
Notes: Quote – Anne Sexton Appreciation. Photo: DistantPassion
Burning the Old Year
letters swallow themselves in seconds.
notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.
so much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.
where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
i begin again with the smallest numbers.
quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things i didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.
– Naomi Shihab Nye, “Burning the Old Year” from Words Under Words: Selected Poems
Notes:
- Sources: Poem: Visual Poetry. Photograph: via Hidden Sanctuary
- Related posts: Naomi Shihab Nye
Play it again Leron (67 sec)
Notes:
- Leron Zamir plays Auld Lang Syne in a Cello Cover
- Related Posts including Bio: Leron Zamir
- Find his other music on Youtube: Leron Zamir