Dogwood (May 20, 2003) (cf.)

`READIN`

The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.

— John Stuart Mill (view other epigraphs)

(This is a page from my archives)

➻

Front page

➻

More posts about:

➻	Intimate Stranger
➻	Poetry
➻	Readings

Archives index
Subscribe to RSS

This page renders best in Firefox (or Safari, or Chrome)

READIN started out as a place for me to keep track of what I am reading, and to learn (slowly, slowly) how to design a web site.

There has been some mission drift here and there, but in general that's still what it is. Some of the main things I write about here are reading books, listening to (and playing) music, and watching the movies. Also I write about the work I do with my hands and with my head; and of course about bringing up Sylvia.

The site is a bit of a work in progress. New features will come on-line now and then; and you will occasionally get error messages in place of the blog, for the forseeable future. Cut me some slack, I'm just doing it for fun! And if you see an error message you think I should know about, please drop me a line. READIN source code is PHP and CSS, and available on request, in case you want to see how it works.

See my reading list for what I'm interested in this year.

READIN has been visited approximately 236,737 times since October, 2007.

🦋 Fish

What a fantastic prompt this is, from Breytenbach's Intimate Stranger: "Poetry is fishing for memories in time." Reckon I'll go drop a line in the murky waters...

posted morning of Sunday, November 17th, 2013
➳ More posts about Intimate Stranger
➳ More posts about Poetry
➳ More posts about Readings

Dark flashes of memory flicker
beneath the slow murky waters of time's river.
I peer uncertain into the black
to where my line sits slack
untouched:
bait squirms still on the hook
that I reel in and cast again.

posted morning of November 17th, 2013 by J

Respond:

Name:

E-mail:
(will not be displayed)

Link:

Remember info

Drop me a line! or, sign my Guestbook.
•
Check out Ellen's writing at Patch.com.

`READIN`

Jeremy's journal

`READIN`

🦋 Fish

Respond:

Where to go from here...