Poem of the day

A Half-hour

by C.P. Cavafy

I never had you and no doubt I never

will. A few words, an approach

like at the bar two days ago – nothing more. For me,

I must admit, I’m sorry. But we others,

the Art’s adepts, by force of concentration, can create

fleetingly, sometimes, a pleasure

that impresses one by being almost concrete.

Thus, in the bar, two days ago, with alcohol

helping me greatly in its kindly fashion,

that half-hour was for me profoundly erotic.

It seemed to me you understood, and deliberately

you lingered just a little. Now, what was there

was something very necessary, for, with all

possible fantasy and the magic of alcohol,

I had to see your lips as well,

I had to have your body near.

21 June

5 vokaltexte

by Hiro Kamimura

20 June

For Manhattan

by Diane di Prima




ah hubris, hubris


what does the wind do to you

lot you care

and the night, bedding down

slipping into you easy


lady when there are stars

does it help?

19 June

The London Eye

by Patience Agbabi

18 June

Once More I Will Greet the Sun

by Forough Farrokhzad

Once more I will greet the sun,

the stream that flowed in me,

the clouds which were my long thoughts,

the painful growth of poplars in the garden

which pass through the dry seasons with me,

the flocks of crows

which brought me the smell of the night farms

as presents,

my mother who lived in the mirror

and was the image of my old age.


Once more I will greet the earth whose burning soul

is filled with the green seeds of my incessant passion.


I will come, I will come, I will come,

with my hair, the continuation of the smells of the undersoil,

with my eyes, as the dense experiences of darkness,

with the bushes I have picked in the wilderness beyond the wall

I will come, I will come, I will come

and the entrance will be filled with love

and at the entrance, once more, I will greet those who love

and the girl who is still standing there

at the threshold full of love.

17 June

Ivor Cutler, Edwin Morgan, Ted Hughes, Adrian Henri

by Morden Tower

16 June

Chronophobia (5)

by Carrie Etter

We meet on streets to prolong the catwalk, to lengthen arrival so it aligns more

commensurately with its anticipation. A street of three blocks or more with enough

pedestrians to heighten awareness and to raise a few false hopes at a glimpse of a

similar coat or swing of hair. Now that you're here, turn at the next corner. Go back

to approach me again.