Me & My Shadow

My Shadow
by Robert Louis Stevenson

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

Love Conquers All

"Love conquers all things; let us too surrender to Love."
- Vergil

When Woe Fades Away

Bereavement a poem
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner
As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier,
As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the scorner,
And drops to perfection's remembrance a tear;
When floods of despair down his pale cheeks are streaming,
When no blissful hope on his bosom is beaming,
Or, if lulled for a while, soon he starts from his dreaming,
And finds torn the soft ties to affection so dear.
Ah, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave,
Or summer succeed to the winter of death?
Rest awhle, hapless victim! and Heaven will save
The spirit that hath faded away with the breath.
Eternity points, in its amaranth bower
Where no clouds of fate o'er the sweet prospect lour,
Unspeakable pleasure, of goodness the dower,
When woe fades away like the mist of the heath

Generation "Why?"

Oh, I just love this book "Hipster Haiku". Jessica gave it to me the other night, and it is such a perfect, clever, snarky commentary on the Hipsters that we have in abundance in San Francisco. Just spend an afternoon at Ritual Coffee in the Mission and you will see what I mean. Tatoos, pale skin, Skinny Jeans, piercings, colored hair and MacBooks abound. As well as a heaviness in the air caused by the overflow of ennui. (the coffee is out of this world, though).

Here are some of my favorites:

Crafty on the BART
En route to 24th Street
Knitting legwarmers

For the love of God
Please, please read the memo:
No more trucker caps

Online personal:
Seventeen bands I like and
Where I went to school

My fancy gay friend
Is secretly intrigued by
My Stitch n Bitch night

Proudly we unveil
A cocktail whose time has come:
Schlitz and Prosecco

The Zenith

The Zenith
by Caroline A. Wong
age 15, Lick-Wilmerding High School

it is the sky that first attracted me
that growing, breathing beast above
that pulsing mass, that moving grey
that great expanse of nothing
maybe dust
it is the sky that i feel is eating me
drawing me up
and closer
sucking me into its lungs
my veil - it is a clean bridal white tulle
- pulls on the strings of my black hair
my veil - it says
no
you must stay here - it says
it drags me back
moving my legs up and down and up
and down onto the spongy grass
here you'll stay - it says
but the sky grabs my skirts
the heavy winter whites of obligation
and puts them in my hands
so that i may fun faster into its mouth
there are no fangs in that mouth
but the teeth of the comb of the veil in my hair
bite down
no - it says
i run harder
not away
but towards
the sky maybe
towards
more maybe
life maybe
and the thread of my veil's evil puppetry
that tangle of black spiderwebs
flow up a bit in a breeze
agreeing with me
that i am going someplac
and no place

That Has Made All of the Difference

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

What a Piece of Work is Man

What a piece of work is man
How noble in reason
How infinite in faculties
In form and moving
How express and admirable
In action how like an angel
In apprehension how like a god
The beauty of the world
The paragon of animals

I have of late
But wherefore I know not
Lost all my mirth
This goodly frame
The earth
Seems to me a sterile promontory
This most excellent canopy
The air-- look you!
This brave o'erhanging firmament
This majestical roof
Fretted with golden fire
Why it appears no other thing to me
Than a foul and pestilent congregation
Of vapors

- William Shakespeare, also in the musical "Hair"