David Anthony Sam's Blog, page 165

Cats are the soul of a house

“I love cats because I love my home and after a while they become its visible soul.”

– Jean Cocteau

Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine will publish two of my poems in their Summer issue.

Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine will publish two of my poems in their upcoming issue available in March. This is the third time they have accepted my poetry. Thank you SBLAAM.

And what a journey!

It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end. Ursula K. Le Guin

Mourning Ursula K. Le Guin. Her Left Hand of Darkness blew me away.

Mourning Ursula K. Le Guin. Her Left Hand of Darkness blew me away.

Ursula K. Le Guin, Acclaimed for Her Fantasy Fiction, Is Dead at 88 – The New York Times

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/23/obituaries/ursula-k-le-guin-acclaimed-for-her-fantasy-fiction-is-dead-at-88.html?utm_source=Sailthru&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Today%20in%20Books&utm_term=BookRiot_ThisWeekInBooks_DormantSuppress

My poem “Unforgetting” is live now Heron Tree.

My poem “Unforgetting” is live now Heron Tree.

“Good people can and do disagree, but a lack of basic respect is corrosive and crippling to democracy itself.” http://wapo.st/2DjB3fj

Thank you Parentheses Journal for accepting my poem “Shades of Difficulty” for future publication

Thank you Parentheses Journal @ParenthesesArt for accepting my poem “Shades of Difficulty” for future publication,

The dream is still alive even if some choose to believe in a nightmare.

The dream is still alive even if some choose to believe in a nightmare.

The strident hackers miss no chance to dramatize, hurt, fairly or unfairly, for they fear their emptiness

From A. R. Ammons “Garbage”

the hackers, having none

hack away at intensity: they want to move,

disturb, shock: they show the idleness of

pretended feeling: feeling moves by moving

into considerations of moving away: real

feeling assigns its weight gently to others,

helps them meet, deal with the harsh, brutal,

the ineluctable, eases the burdens of unclouded

facts: the strident hackers miss no chance to

dramatize, hurt, fairly or unfairly, for they

fear their emptiness: the gentlest, the most

refined language, so little engaged it is hardly

engaging, deserves to tell the deepest wishes,

roundabout fears: loud boys, the

declaimers, the deaf listen to them: to the whisperers,

even the silent, their moody abundance: the

poem that goes dumb holds tears: the line,

the fire line, where passion and control waver

for the field, that is a line so diffcult to

keep in the right degree, one side not raiding the other:

(G, 120—121)

A great dramatic reading of The Waste Land by Fiona Shaw

A great dramatic reading of The Waste Land by Fiona Shaw.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5