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Tuesday, April 15th, 2008
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11:26 am - anon.
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go out in the early days of winter
after the first cold snap of the season
find a pool of water with a sheet of ice around the top
still fresh and new and clear as glass
near the shore the ice will hold you
slide out farther, farther,
eventually you'll find the place
where the surface just barely holds your weight
there you will feel what i feel
the ice splinters under your feet
look down and you can see the white cracks
darting through the ice like mad,
elaborate spider-webs
it is perfectly silent,
but you can feel the sudden sharp vibrations through the bottoms of your feet,
this is what happened when she smiled at me
(poem i found on ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) jr__nal)
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| Tuesday, February 26th, 2008
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3:26 pm - The Quiet World.
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In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
the government has decided to allot
each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it
to my ear without saying hello.
In the restaurant I point
at chicken noodle soup. I am
adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long
distance lover and proudly say
I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn’t respond, I know
she’s used up all her words
so I slowly whisper I love you,
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
Jeffrey McDaniel
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| Saturday, September 1st, 2007
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3:56 pm - you love us when we're heroes.
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 You worship decorations; you believe
That chivalry redeems the war's disgrace.
it may sound like i'm trivialising war when i say this, but i would give anything to take a picture as poignant as this one, even if it means being caught in the throes of war.
(well the poem is somewhat irreverent but i wanted to post the picture, and it was the only poem i could remember from our War Poetry module aside from In Flanders Fields, and that was about dead people, so.)
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