Andrea Hewitt

Revival

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 14:35:18 -0600

Reanimating the ole Tumblr blog-a-ma-jiggy to be a place for poetry. More to come!

dear-photograph: Dear Photograph, Grandpa loved the outdoors....

Fri, 22 Jul 2011 08:24:05 -0500

dear-photograph:

Dear Photograph,

Grandpa loved the outdoors. But he loved us more.
Pam Dusbabek

Buddha tomato wedding

Thu, 21 Jul 2011 15:50:05 -0500

Buddha tomato wedding

The Decemberists show poster for Salt Lake City, UT (July 21,...

Thu, 21 Jul 2011 13:13:05 -0500

The Decemberists show poster for Salt Lake City, UT (July 21, 2011). Designed by Zeloot. Limited edition of 90. Four-color screen print on 19″ x 25″ paper.

dear-photograph: Dear Photograph, There’s no place like home....

Thu, 21 Jul 2011 10:48:05 -0500

dear-photograph:

Dear Photograph,
There’s no place like home.
Elizabeth

dear-photograph: Dear photograph, Time to walk the dog again....

Thu, 21 Jul 2011 08:24:05 -0500

dear-photograph:

Dear photograph,
Time to walk the dog again.
Nikki Lynn

eightelevenpress: Parenthood, via Sugarcube Press

Wed, 20 Jul 2011 15:45:05 -0500

eightelevenpress:

Parenthood, via Sugarcube Press

Developing a Daily Practice

Mon, 18 Jul 2011 10:48:05 -0500

Developing a Daily Practice

[La Mia Città] Porta Vittoria by Urca on Flickr.

Sun, 17 Jul 2011 08:24:05 -0500

[La Mia Città] Porta Vittoria by Urca on Flickr.

Springtime by Ferdi Stotz on Flickr.

Sat, 16 Jul 2011 15:37:05 -0500

Springtime by Ferdi Stotz on Flickr.

The Idea of Order at Key West

Sat, 16 Jul 2011 13:12:05 -0500

She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.

The sea was not a mask. No more was she.
The song and water were not medleyed sound
Even if what she sang was what she heard,
Since what she sang was uttered word by word.
It may be that in all her phrases stirred
The grinding water and the gasping wind;
But it was she and not the sea we heard.

For she was the maker of the song she sang.
The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea
Was merely a place by which she walked to sing.
Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew
It was the spirit that we sought and knew
That we should ask this often as she sang.

If it was only the dark voice of the sea
That rose, or even colored by many waves;
If it was only the outer voice of sky
And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled,
However clear, it would have been deep air,
The heaving speech of air, a summer sound
Repeated in a summer without end
And sound alone. But it was more than that,
More even than her voice, and ours, among
The meaningless plungings of water and the wind,
Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped
On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres
Of sky and sea.
It was her voice that made
The sky acutest at its vanishing.
She measured to the hour its solitude.
She was the single artificer of the world
In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea,
Whatever self it had, became the self
That was her song, for she was the maker. Then we,
As we beheld her striding there alone,
Knew that there was never a world for her
Except the one she sang and, singing, made.

Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.

Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker’s rage to order words of sea
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.

Wallace Stevens

St.Augustine FL by zerotolerenc on Flickr.

Sat, 16 Jul 2011 10:48:06 -0500

St.Augustine FL by zerotolerenc on Flickr.

Freedom Over Texas - Fireworks over Downtown Houston by Dante...

Sat, 16 Jul 2011 08:24:06 -0500

Freedom Over Texas - Fireworks over Downtown Houston by Dante Recknagel on Flickr.

A Postcard from The Volcano

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 15:36:05 -0500

Children picking up our bones
Will never know that these were once
As quick as foxes on the hill;

And that in autumn, when the grapes
Made sharp air sharper by their smell
These had a being, breathing frost;

And least will guess that with our bones
We left much more, left what still is
The look of things, left what we felt

At what we saw. The spring clouds blow
Above the shuttered mansion house,
Beyond our gate and the windy sky

Cries out a literate despair.
We knew for long the mansion’s look
And what we said of it became

A part of what it is … Children,
Still weaving budded aureoles,
Will speak our speech and never know,

Will say of the mansion that it seems
As if he that lived there left behind
A spirit storming in blank walls,

A dirty house in a gutted world,
A tatter of shadows peaked to white,
Smeared with the gold of the opulent sun.

Wallace Stevens

GERTRUDE STEIN GETS HER NEW IPHONE.

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 14:13:30 -0500

GERTRUDE STEIN GETS HER NEW IPHONE.

kiddie pool by g.langford on Flickr.

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 13:18:05 -0500

kiddie pool by g.langford on Flickr.

A Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 10:49:05 -0500

The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace
And beaded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, here and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches Tigers
In red weather.

Wallace Stevens

Espacio Digital Las Palmas by Raquel Cecilia on Flickr.

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 08:24:06 -0500

Espacio Digital Las Palmas by Raquel Cecilia on Flickr.

Anecdote of the Jar

Thu, 14 Jul 2011 15:37:05 -0500

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.

Wallace Stevens

Some double exposures by FeeMail on Flickr.

Thu, 14 Jul 2011 13:15:06 -0500

Some double exposures by FeeMail on Flickr.