Original post from 26/01/2007 The first time I read this poem, I was at school, and I remember well we were preparing to either a quiz or a matinee, so we had to learn an English poem by heart. I beli...
We talk of taxes, and I call you friend; Well, such we are, but well enough we know How thick about us root, how rankly grow Those subtle weeds no man has need to tend, That flourish through neglect a...
A year ago I wrote about Women in Art, an artwork by the American digital artist Philip Scott Johnson (aka Eggman913). The artwork has taken the Internet by storm, producing a string of posts, analyse...
Between the hands, between the brows,Between the lips of Love-Lily,A spirit is born whose birth endowsMy blood with fire to burn through me;Who breathes upon my gazing eyes,Who laughs and murmurs in m...