culture

the archivist October 24, 2024

Poppies in October Sylvia Plath Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts. Nor the woman in the ambulance Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly — A gift, a love gift Utterly unasked for By a sky Palely and flamily Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes Dulled to a halt under […]

the archivist October 11, 2024

October Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872 –1906) October is the treasurer of the year, And all the months pay bounty to her store; The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, And fill her brimming coffers more and more But she, with youthful lavishness, Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, And decks herself in garments […]

the archivist October 9, 2024

Love Unknown: The Life and Worlds of Elizabeth Bishop Thomas Travisano From the Publisher: Description An illuminating new biography of one of the greatest American poets of the twentieth century, Elizabeth Bishop “Love Unknown points movingly to the many relationships that moored Bishop, keeping her together even as life—and her own self-destructive tendencies—threatened to split her […]

the archivist October 4, 2024

Links of the Week, vol. 13: Link Cadillac, Crushed Velvet Seats Jonas Fredwall Karlsson’s Portraits of Rock Climbers and Adventurer Click through to see Karlsson’s portraits of the extreme climbers, bikers, hikers, adventurers, and explorers, from the pages of Vanity Fair. https://www.vanityfair.com/culture/photos/2015/03/jonas-fredwall-karlsson-extreme-sports-photography —– The Enduring Mystery of the Amber Room, Coveted by Tsars, Nazis, and […]

the archivist October 3, 2024

October Helen Hunt Jackson Bending above the spicy woods which blaze, Arch skies so blue they flash, and hold the sun Immeasurably far; the waters run Too slow, so freighted are the river-ways With gold of elms and birches from the maze Of forests. Chestnuts, clicking one by one, Escape from satin burs; her fringes […]

the archivist September 8, 2024

The Summer Day Mary Oliver Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean— the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of […]

the archivist July 18, 2024

After a While Veronica A. Shoffstall (1952-2024) After a while, you learn the subtle difference Between holding a hand and chaining a soul, And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning And company doesn’t mean security, And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts And presents aren’t promises, And you begin to accept your […]

the archivist June 26, 2024

To Live in the Mercy of God Denise Levertov To lie back under the tallest oldest trees. How far the stems rise, rise                before ribs of shelter                                            open! To live in the mercy of God. The complete sentence too adequate, has no give. Awe, not comfort. Stone, elbows of stony wood beneath lenient moss […]

the archivist June 13, 2024

449 (I died for Beauty—but was scarce) Emily Dickinson I died for Beauty—but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining Room— He questioned softly “Why I failed?” “For Beauty,” I replied— “And I—for Truth—Themself are One— We Brethren, are,” He said— And so, as Kinsmen, […]

the archivist June 8, 2024

A Moment Mary Elizabeth Coleridge The clouds had made a crimson crown     Above the mountains high. The stormy sun was going down     In a stormy sky. Why did you let your eyes so rest on me,     And hold your breath between? In all the ages this can never be     As if […]

the archivist June 6, 2024

A Letter from Sophia Peabody to Nathaniel Hawthorne Sophia Amelia Peabody (1809-71) was born in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1809, the youngest of three talented sisters. Sophia, though troubled by ill health for much of her life, was a painter and copyist. From 1833-35 she lived in Cuba, in the hope that the climate might there […]

the archivist May 24, 2024

Defeated Sophie Jewett When the last fight is lost, the last sword broken; The last call sounded, the last order spoken; When from the field where braver hearts lie sleeping, Faint, and athirst, and blinded, I come creeping, With not one waving shred of palm to bring you, With not one splendid battle-song to sing […]

the archivist May 23, 2024

Anne Hathaway Carol Ann Duffy ‘Item I gyve unto my wief my second best bed…’ (from Shakespeare’s will) The bed we loved in was a spinning world of forests, castles, torchlight, cliff-tops, seas where he would dive for pearls. My lover’s words were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses on these lips; my […]

the archivist May 5, 2024

Green-Striped Melons Jane Hirshfield They lie under stars in a field. They lie under rain in a field. Under sun. Some people are like this as well— like a painting hidden beneath another painting. An unexpected weight the sign of their ripeness.