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Tim Bovee, Private Trader: The left brain side of my life.
mamabluefoot & the mountain
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A Poet on a Magical Journey Home
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Tina Blue's Beginner's Guide to Prosody, exactly what the title says, and well worth reading.
popomo.net, miniature, minimalist-inspired sculptures created from industrial cereamics, an art project at Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Oregon.
pink.popomo.net, More projects from Portland
oarena.net, Furby, Eliza, Mr_Friss and Miss_Friss.
Save Point 0.8.1, a Portland, Oregon, exhibit, Aug. 13-Sept. 5, 2004, at Disjecta.
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A dozen poems
For todayA version friendly to printer and palmtop
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The Enchantment, by Thomas Otway
I DID but look and love awhile,
'Twas but for one half-hour;
Then to resist I had no will,
And now I have no power.
To sigh and wish is all my ease;
The Dust of No Return, by Paul McCann
After the war was over,
I returned to Australia and wed,
with severance pay to kick start,
we looked to be getting ahead.
We checked out this land in the country,
Bushland, by Arthur Patchett Martin
Not sweeter to the storm-tossed mariner
Is glimpse of home, where wife and children wait
To welcome him with kisses at the gate,
Than to the town-worn man the breezy stir
Of mountain winds on rugged pathless heights:
The Relapse, by Thomas Stanley
O TURN away those cruel eyes,
The stars of my undoing!
Or death, in such a bright disguise,
May tempt a second wooing.
Punish their blind and impious pride,
My Grief on the Sea, from the Irish, by Douglas Hyde
MY grief on the sea,
How the waves of it roll!
For they heave between me
And the love of my soul!
Abandon'd, forsaken,
Convention, by Agnes Lee
The snow is lying very deep.
My house is sheltered from the blast.
I hear each muffled step outside,
I hear each voice go past.
But I'll not venture in the drift
The Ninety and Nine, by Rose Elizabeth Smith
There are ninety and nine that work and die,
In hunger and want and cold,
That one may revel in luxury,
And be lapped in the silken fold.
And ninety and nine in their hovels bare,
Overnight, a Rose, by Caroline Giltinan
That overnight a rose could come
I one time did believe,
For when the fairies live with one,
They wilfully deceive.
But now I know this perfect thing
Song, by Sir George Etherege
LADIES, though to your conquering eyes
Love owes his chiefest victories,
And borrows those bright arms from you
With which he does the world subdue,
Yet you yourselves are not above
Return, by John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester
ABSENT from thee, I languish still;
Then ask me not, When I return?
The straying fool 'twill plainly kill
To wish all day, all night to mourn.
Dear, from thine arms then let me fly,
Players, by Victor James Daley
And after all -- and after all,
Our passionate prayers, and sighs, and tears,
Is life a reckless carnival?
And are they lost, our golden years?
Ah, no; ah, no; for, long ago,
Causeway Bay at Night, by Thobias A. Pereira
The full moon up in Cause-way Bay
Highlighting outline of hills around the Bay:
Outshining towers of lights of many hues,
And clearing the veil of eerie darkness of the night.
A magnificent view from "Rosedale on the park:
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