Monday, May 30, 2016
Thursday, May 26, 2016
|Past poet, present poet. Left shoe, right shoe.|
I wrote of roses on a woman's breast,
Glowing as though her blood
Had welled out to a spellbound fierceness;
And the glad, light mixture of her hair.
I wrote of God and angels.
They stole the simple blush of my desire
To make their isolated triumph human.
Monday, May 23, 2016
Other than being the political capital of Canada, Ottawa is known for two things: The frozen skateway known as the Rideau Canal and; the spring time Tulip Festival. Along with thousands of tourists converging upon Dow's Lake on the festival's last weekend to admire the myriad tulips on display we looked down and came across these poetic pauses written in chalk.
We've attributed the "anonymous" pauses where possible and have linked to biographical information on the authors. The following thoughts came to our collective consciousness first, through Chinese philosophers, American businesswomen and even the last line of the comedy TV series, The Office.