To This Day Project

I’m just gonna leave this here for now, because I want to come back to it later. There is a picture book coming out based on this and that is what drew it to my attention.  In the meantime it is a powerful and beautiful poem.

Amanda Palmer reads Polish poetry, beautifully. And Brainpickings

Amanda Palmer sings lovely songs, writes well and iv all kinds of awesome.  I heartily recommend that you get to know her.  Look at her awesome here. You can listen to her here.  Read along with the poem:

POSSIBILITIES by Wislawa Sxymborska

I prefer movies.

I prefer cats.

I prefer the oaks along the Warta.

I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.

I prefer myself liking people

to myself loving mankind.

I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.

I prefer the color green.

I prefer not to maintain

that reason is to blame for everything.

I prefer exceptions.

I prefer to leave early.

I prefer talking to doctors about something else.

I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.

I prefer the absurdity of writing poems

to the absurdity of not writing poems.

I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries

that can be celebrated every day.

I prefer moralists

who promise me nothing.

I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.

I prefer the earth in civvies.

I prefer conquered to conquering countries.

I prefer having some reservations.

I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.

I prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages.

I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.

I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.

I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.

I prefer desk drawers.

I prefer many things that I haven’t mentioned here

to many things I’ve also left unsaid.

I prefer zeroes on the loose

to those lined up behind a cipher.

I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.

I prefer to knock on wood.

I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.

I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility

that existence has its own reason for being.

I love that Brain Pickings brings these cool things to me in a weekly email.  I think more people should subscribe. Go on.  It is life affirming and Maria Popova makes me feel good, explore new stuff and is generally great. The analysis of picture books is one of my favourite things. For the picture book fan these really are gems.

Bub Bridger has died at 85

Bub Bridger was wonderful.  She died at the age of 85 on the West Coast.  Her lovely style and humour was just great.

Her books Wild Daisies and Up here on the hill are full of such great, simple and lovely poems.  She manages to say things without masking them with the mystery that other poets get all wound up in.  Just simple gorgeous words from the heart.

Confession by Bub Bridger
I’m a little in love with you
To cause you embarrassment
Or concern
Just a warm
Skip of the heart
When I see you from
My bus
At your stop

I catch your eye
And give you a wave
And I note
That you are more beautiful
Now than you ever were
And I am a keen
Observer of beauty
Whether it’s sunsets
Or music
Or the Mona Lisa
Or birds flying
Or green growing things
Or you

How does it feel
My young Adonis, to be
Held in such regard
By an elderly lady
On the 24 Express?
Don’t knock it
Because it really is
A rare compliment
And you
Only have to respond
With your wide smile
Which is a small price
To pay
For allowing me my glimpse
Of what it used to be
All those years ago
When I was seventeen
And beautiful young men
By the dozen.