Wednesday, September 2, 2009


Then to the left he turned. Leaving the walls, 

he headed toward the center by a path 

that strikes into a vale, whose stench arose, 

disgusting us as high up as we were. 

Dante- Canto X The Inferno


but if a living dance upon dead minds
why,it is love;but at the earliest spear
of sun perfectly should disappear
moon's utmost magic,or stones speak or one
name control more incredible splendor than
our merely universe, love's also there:
and being here imprisoned,tortured here
love everywhere exploding maims and blinds
(but surely does not forget,perish, sleep
cannot be photographed,measured;disdains
the trivial labelling of punctual brains...
-Who wields a poem huger than the grave?
from only Whom shall time no refuge keep
though all the weird worlds must be opened? 

ee cummings