Today’s Quote

“One of the things that baffles me (and there are quite a few) is how there can be so much lingering stigma with regards to mental illness, specifically bipolar disorder. In my opinion, living with manic depression takes a tremendous amount of balls. Not unlike a tour of Afghanistan (though the bombs and bullets, in this case, come from the inside). At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of. They should issue medals along with the steady stream of medication.”

Carrie Fisher, Wishful Drinking


A Poem by Edward Thomas

Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed
The speculating rooks at their nests cawed
And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flowers of grass,
What we below could not see, Winter pass.

The Sea of Glass

A Poem by Ezra Pound

I looked and saw a sea
                               roofed over with rainbows,
In the midst of each
                               two lovers met and departed;
Then the sky was full of faces
                               with gold glories behind them.

Words for Departure

A Poem by Louise Bogan

Nothing was remembered, nothing forgotten. 
When we awoke, wagons were passing on the warm summer pavements, 
The window-sills were wet from rain in the night, 
Birds scattered and settled over chimneypots
As among grotesque trees. 

Nothing was accepted, nothing looked beyond. 
Slight-voiced bells separated hour from hour, 
The afternoon sifted coolness
And people drew together in streets becoming deserted. 
There was a moon, and light in a shop-front, 
And dusk falling like precipitous water. 

Hand clasped hand, 
Forehead still bowed to forehead—
Nothing was lost, nothing possessed, 
There was no gift nor denial. 

I have remembered you. 
You were not the town visited once, 
Nor the road falling behind running feet. 

You were as awkward as flesh
And lighter than frost or ashes. 

You were the rind, 
And the white-juiced apple, 
The song, and the words waiting for music.

You have learned the beginning; 
Go from mine to the other. 

Be together; eat, dance, despair, 
Sleep, be threatened, endure. 
You will know the way of that. But at the end, be insolent; 
Be absurd—strike the thing short off;
Be mad—only do not let talk 
Wear the bloom from silence. 

And go away without fire or lantern. 
Let there be some uncertainty about your departure.

Everyone Sang

A Poem by Siegfried Sassoon

Everyone suddenly burst out singing;
And I was filled with such delight
As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
Winging wildly across the white
Orchards and dark green fields; on; on; and out of sight.

Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted;
And beauty came like the setting sun:
My heart was shaken with tears; and horror
Drifted away … O, but Everyone
Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.

Today’s Quote

“Feminism has never been about getting a job for one woman. It’s about making life more fair for women everywhere. It’s not about a piece of the existing pie; there are too many of us for that. It’s about baking a new pie.”

Gloria Steinem

The Bronze Legacy

A Poem by Effie Lee Newsome

(To a Brown Boy)

’Tis a noble gift to be brown, all brown,
     Like the strongest things that make up this earth,
Like the mountains grave and grand,
     Even like the very land,
     Even like the trunks of trees—
     Even oaks, to be like these!
God builds His strength in bronze.

To be brown like thrush and lark!
     Like the subtle wren so dark!
Nay, the king of beasts wears brown;
     Eagles are of this same hue.
I thank God, then, I am brown.
     Brown has mighty things to do.