hive and warehouse

photo of Loie Fuller

photo of Loie Fuller

1895-1908 Loie Fuller’s Serpentine Dance

THE COMPUTATION by John Donne


FOR my first twenty years, since yesterday,
    I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away ; 
For forty more I fed on favours past, 
    And forty on hopes that thou wouldst they might last ; 
Tears drown’d one hundred, and sighs blew out two ;
    A thousand, I did neither think nor do, 
Or not divide, all being one thought of you ;
    Or in a thousand more, forgot that too.
Yet call not this long life ; but think that I
Am, by being dead, immortal; can ghosts die?

From S.W. Clark’s Practical Grammar (1847) “A complex sentence—both simple and intransitive.”

“Too low they build, who build beneath the stars.” -Edward Young

From S.W. Clark’s Practical Grammar (1847) “A complex sentence—both simple and intransitive.”

Too low they build, who build beneath the stars.” -Edward Young

antonimus:

Antonio LeeOil and acrylic on canvas. 60cm x 90cm

antonimus:

Antonio Lee
Oil and acrylic on canvas. 60cm x 90cm

antonimus:

Antonio LeeOil and acrylic on canvas. 70cm x 65cm

antonimus:

Antonio Lee
Oil and acrylic on canvas. 70cm x 65cm

Lines by Dan Beachy-Quick


The lightning struck him and left a scar.
The wind stopped blowing and the wheat stood up.
Self-tensed self, who is this I that says I ?
I had a scar in the shape of  lightning
That split in half when I opened my mouth.
The sun  just a circle of  heat in the sky
Throwing absence in the shape of clouds
Down on the field. Another life placed
In the middle of  the life I called my own.
A lesser god commanded the front: return.
A little god knocked about in the germ.
The third person put me outside my own sphere.
A small god chanting lightning in the synapse.
Wind blows the wheat down. He calls it prayer.


from The Poetry Foundation
Marcel Dzama, from Berlin Years 

Marcel Dzama, from Berlin Years