AndrewTakesaTumbl

vertigo

These days whenever

my old falling heart

begins to know

this too-familiar vertigo

this dizzying careen

I gently but

deliberately

carve out whatever

new false hope I have

indulged a bit too

long then with

wry grin I stack it up upon

a hill already high and then I

try to see and size what might

have slipped by me

again.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

—Emily Dickinson

My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

- Fr. Gerard Manley Hopkins

…who’s also you)
and nothing less than excellent
E will exactly do

next(our great problem nearly solved)
we dare adorn the whole
with a distinct grandiloquent
deep D;while all skies fall

at last perfection,now and here
—but look:not sunlight?yes!
and(plunging rapturously up)
we spill our masterpiece

- E. E. Cummings

1

For when dreams increase

and words grow

many,

there is

vanity;

but Love

(butLovebutLovebutLove)

is the

one

you

must

fear

From Qoheloth: an adjusted translation

to start,to hesitate;to stop
(kneeling in doubt:while all
skies fall)and then to slowly trust
T upon H,and smile

could anything be pleasanter
(some big dark little day
which seems a lifetime at the least)
except to add an A?

henceforth he feels his pride involved
(this is…

- E. E. Cummings

(Source: tiffanyjmurphy)

2