The Museum of Disappearing Sounds. Zoë Skoulding (Seren, Poetry Wales Press, 2013); Paperback; £8.99 This crashes around the skull. It whispers and it wails. It is the sound we hear when the space around us is silent. Recently shortlisted for the Ted Hughes award, Zoë Skoulding's The Museum of Disappearing Sounds explores the notion of sound as a codependent relationship between a reader's external and internal ear. The Museum of Disappearing Sounds is an intimate collection
when you read: listen to Juliet's Dream by Abel Korzeniowski. "Love is like dried flowers sometimes. Even though you watch the petals shrink and change colour, you cannot help treasuring them." ~ Munia Khan, author of 'Beyond The Vernal Mind,' 'To Evince The Blue,' and 'Versified.' Today is the first day of Lent, and I am already at a loss. I am thinking about all the things I have lost, and I am thinking about all the things I am ready to lose, and I am thinking about love.
I have always loved shoes. Little miss shoes. That's what my great grandfather used to call me. I would wear those little, red sparkles all the way to Oz and back---as if they were my wonderland-staple. But that was when I was five, and now, fifteen years later, I am sorting through my wardrobe with the interest to see which shoes have been---and remain---my choice for any occasions. I'm sure we all have preferences, but I know I've learned that football cleats don't necessar
it's harder now that wisdom is so interchangeable with knowledge. And I think I know less now. Sometimes that seems the case, doesn't it? 'The words of the wise are like goads: the collected like nails firmly fixed by God. my sons and daughters, beware of all lies. they come easy.' Ecclesiastes 12:11-12 One prompt----this goad----symbolizes the resourcesfulness of God as he reveals the power, the potential, that His wisdom possesses. A goad, I've researched, is a traditional
I’m twenty days late for a New Years’ post, but rereading old resolutions has led me to believe reflection comes in two waves, crashing over and over again. When I was a little girl, I lived on the other side of the world by the beach. There, my father used to take me surfing on special occasions. You’ve got to ride the right wave otherwise you end up upside-down underneath the surface with salt water in mouth and mind. but if the wave is not strong enough, then the board wil
It is wonderful to sit before you. I wish you a beautiful good-morning, good-evening, good-afternoon. It's that in-between, dusky-rainy kind of day outside. I just woke up so i'm finishing my coffee as I write at my desk. someday, i'll show you, if you'd like to see? for now, i'll just say that this desk is the most inspiringdistracting place to study, especially in the morning. Look up. See all the postcards & old photographs, quotes & fairy lights, ticket stubs from orchest