The Plot Against the Giant

autumn-woman-in-gold-leavesCouldn’t find the name of the painter… sorry!

Here is a very weird poem, and one very uncharacteristic of him, by the great American poet  Wallace Stevens:

The Plot Against the Giant

First Girl When this yokel comes maundering,

Whetting his hacker,

I shall run before him,

Diffusing the civilest odors

Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers.

It will check him.

Second Girl

I shall run before him,

Arching cloths besprinkled with colors

As small as fish-eggs.

The threads

Will abash him.

Third Girl

Oh, la…le pauvre!

I shall run before him,

With a curious puffing.

He will bend his ear then.

I shall whisper

Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals.

It will undo him.


<a href=””>Giant</a&gt;


As Gregor Samsa awoke,


“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.”

  •  Franz Kafka,   The Metamorphosis


<a href=””>Transmogrify</a&gt;

Stand still, stare hard


Wooden Bridge In The Autumn Forest by Odon Czintos


Here is the 7th  and final stanza of a poem by May Swenson:




Now and then, a red leaf riding

the slow flow of gray water.

From the bridge, see far into

the woods, now that limbs are bare,

ground thick-littered. See,

along the scarcely gliding stream,

the blanched, diminished, ragged

swamp and woods the sun still

spills into. Stand still, stare

hard into bramble and tangle,

past leaning broken trunks,

sprawled roots exposed. Will

something move?—some vision

come to outline? Yes, there—

deep in—a dark bird hangs

in the thicket, stretches a wing.

Reversing his perch, he says one

“Chuck.” His shoulder-patch

that should be red looks gray.

This old redwing has decided to

stay, this year, not join the

strenuous migration. Better here,

in the familiar, to fade.






<a href=””>Bridge</a&gt;

One Banned Book


This passage is from The Academy of American Poets:

A Light in the Attic, Shel Silverstein

Known for his whimsical illustrations and verses about mischievous children, transformed adults, and strange monsters and beasts, Shel Silverstein published his second poetry collection, A Light in the Attic, in 1981. The book spent 182 weeks on The New York Times general nonfiction bestseller list and spent fourteen weeks in the number one spot.

However, Silverstein’s books were accused of being not for children, encouraging bad behavior, and addressing topics some people deemed inappropriate for kids. Challengers at two elementary schools in Wisconsin said one poem “encourages children to break dishes so they won’t have to dry them,” and that other poems “glorified Satan, suicide, and cannibalism, and also encouraged children to be disobedient.”

The book was so contested that it became number fifty-one on the list of 100 most frequently challenged books in the 1990s.






<a href=””>Banned</a&gt;


Desire Transformation


“Apollo and Daphne”   painting by Antonio del Pollaiolo


Here is a sonnet by Rainer Maria Rilke:


Desire transformation. O be aroused by the flame

wherein the one thing that eludes you in change shines forth;

every designing mind which has mastered the earthly

loves in the figure’s swing nothing more than the turning point.


What encloses itself in stasis, already is Rigidity;

does it believe itself protected under the plain of gray?

Wait, from afar the hardest warns that which is hard.

Woe—: the absent hammer is ready to strike!


Whoever pours forth as a spring, is recognized by Recognition;

and she leads him enraptured through all of cheerful creation

that often with opening closes and with ending begins.


Every happy space is child or grandchild of separation,

which they undergo amazed. And the transfigured Daphne, *

now that she’s laurel, wishes you change yourself into wind.


Rilke   Sonnets to Orpheus  XII [SECOND PART]

<a href=””>Transformation</a&gt;
<a href="">Transformation</a>

Smudge of tiny prints

wirazka-joanna-leaf-printsJoanna Wirazka,  prints

“He saw the kind of beauty yellow flowers have growing over a carpet of dead leaves. The beauty of cracks forming a mosaic in a dry riverbed, of emerald-green algae at the base of a seawall, of a broken shard from a blue bottle. The beauty of a window smudged with tiny prints. The beauty of wild weeds.”

Michelle Cuevas, Beyond the Laughing Sky



<a href=””>Tiny</a&gt;



Sure on this Shining Night



a poem by James Agee:


Sure On This Shining Night

Sure on this shining night

Of star made shadows round,

Kindness must watch for me

This side the ground.

The late year lies down the north.

All is healed, all is health.

High summer holds the earth.

Hearts all whole.

Sure on this shining night

I weep for wonder wand’ring far alone

Of shadows on the stars.



<a href=””>Shine</a&gt;