maple leaves are letters from the past

It is half-read. The other half is yellow. The stalk Is very thin. It has departed, It has fled. The writing is fading: All colours Crumble to brown. It is a flat letter Of green and rain And dust and sunshine, And frost. Encoded in chlorophyll To sing when you Cut a slice of Old-school…

wolverine is dead, long live the wolverine

Watched Logan the film. Great exit for two wonderful actors (Of course they both die heroically in the fictional universe). Great entry for a very young actress (Who demonstrates that it is always a bad idea to upset little cute girls and teach them to kill) Great balance in the lead triangle. Maybe a little…

titles

me: that wonderful game with wolves in it. Resident Evil. students: Final Fantasy.

influences

in the picture below, one can see clearly, how the King James Version has influenced how we think of a simple cup. i hope i get some time to finish the thought of the conceptual and structural metaphor here.

What students aim to discover

And here I quote To analyze the chosen text in order to find out lexical stylsitic devices, To investigate lexical stylistic devices from the point of their fuction and meaning. The stylSitic means must have done something, so they have to be found out. And then they’ll get some for fuction. Not to mention the meaning. Whoops.…

garlic cucumbers

the time is ripe for first garlic cucumbers. my friend Iveta told me this recipe. it works marvellously. 4 kg cucumbers 2 tbsp crushed garlic 200g sugar (12 tbsp) 100g salt (6 tbsp) 1 glass vinegar 9% 1 glass vegetable oil 1 tbsp black pepper cut the cucumbers into quarters lengthwise, then in halves, mix…

The perks of being on the sidelines

One of the most beautiful poems I have recently read is this: a breezy august sweater she wore bearing me around my shoulders (Kate Kaulakalna) The picture is perfect. The time stands still, projecting a feeling of emptiness, simultaneously reflecting the temperature gradient of late summer and a filial sensation of continuity and memory. The…

trešais aprīlis, divi tūkstoši septiņpadsmitais gads

vai arī tavā pusē bērzi pumpuro? un melni mājas strazdi  izbož rīkli un svilpj un vītero? zem meža velēnām salts rūgtums iziet gaismā un zeme atveŗas un peļķu ledus plaisā… vai tavā  pusē arī  vārnas vējā dejo un kraukļi kramšķina un bērzos sulas klejo un klusi tek no sīkām mazām brūcēm? un mums pa vidu…

the artistic licence

this is the time of post-truth. my head does not get around that notion very well. then, of course, should it, once it is the time of emotions. and so after some rumination and deliberation and suchlike, both for the purposes of exercise and clarity, here i am making a short list of what might be…

circles

she’ll only forget her children, pale green when the dawn deprives them of sleep. she’ll sing bitter lullabies, an aeternal dirge, primaeval and calling to all that sees light. she will look out when the night is high and all the rotten things flourish. her breath so deep, full of fragments, fragrances, thoughts catching up…

a star unrepentant

a pale star through the benighted branches blurred by lack of glasses i breathe four point three below zero and blink out of order where the crows sleep secretly black shadows on black, their dreams contagious, simple, crawling with edible garbage in plenty more steps over the brittle dead leaves smell like so many autumns…

frozen

running in circles the little water droplets frozen shoot off rainbows a flash of black, a yellow beak, a hiss among the lilac twigs naked under the sun, the blackbird’s wife follows her vocation and love among rowans the blue and the green of the diamond ice sparkling all across molten snow speak of a…

nightly pictures

the smell of lilies creeps out of the old graveyard slowly light thickens in trees and streets and drips heavy like honey from a broken cell breathe deep  each step you take now is autumn

what students write

one of those moments in a teacher’s life. those moments. when the truth is spoken by the lips of the infants. terrible truth, too. from a student’s paper, analysing translation: He (Newmark, 1988) has categorized cultural words in five groups; words related to: Ecology; Material culture (food, clothes, transport, etc.) Social culture (work and leisure); Organisations,…

today’s surprise

i wanted to post about something else. but then this turned up. now i am enjoying some surprisingly decent poetry. quote Then Destiny’s Father, grizzled deathless might, Arose up lordly from his sacred throne- In godly throng yet still a noble sight, This warning message spoke in sombre tone: “To life a new eternal light…

This is how he does it

My ingenious Kat getting out through the kitchen window. I probably have to secure my computer and other electronic things before he secretly takes them over.

trivia

behind the sunglasses you wore your tired eyes; reflections of sparrows mated vehemently across the space of fresh minted sunshine. the wetly-thawed earth was fragrant with emerald moss. starlings chirped darkly, looking for morning worms under the din of the city. i saw you sitting alone, at a crowded bus-stop. the traffic went by unrestrained…

the cactus plant blossoms gloriously

for another year we two have been separated by a common heaven. for all this time, i’ve been writing letters to you in my head.  i miss you. and this is a cactus that decided to blossom on the window-sill. apparently, it likes it there. sometimes, i meet you in my dreams, and we do…

what else students say

so, here’s the text-interpretation class, and we are talking about a text that has a metaphor of wine tasting as the coherence device. out of the blue comes a “may i ask an offtopic question?” i say “yes” “you have a cat, right?” “two, rather.” “great, have you ever tasted cat food then? my favourite…