https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/section-648-no-vim-nor-vigor Poetry Written in the Month of November. en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 06:11:20 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10175-attention https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10175-attention she invites the snow to melt warmly on her tongue the cats are jealous anstey No vim nor vigor Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-648-no-vim-nor-vigor#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10175 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10175 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10175 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10052-capturing-history-with-an-old-brush https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10052-capturing-history-with-an-old-brush Hope has died tonight this new ugliness paints us all with old rage. Mink hairs pulled from the ferrule leave trails to divide us into a faux-unity of seething peace. Stand silent in this true slavery of one message, one artist, one love one vision, and the sanctity of death. Let go of hope: the old paradigm is dead, all of the colors now are gray. No more green, No more blue, No More red, only the selfish slog of a smeared  palate and his new history written black on white. When you ask me to look ahead to every bold new canvas, so that I can make out the differences of shade and tone - the twilight that owns the future. I will ignore your artistry and look back, at the bitter red plastic hearts ticking together like a bomb waiting to create Jackson Pollock. ... more anstey No vim nor vigor Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-648-no-vim-nor-vigor#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10052 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10052 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10052 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10014-hallowed https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10014-hallowed like thin roots twisting in dirt below the wide cradle of leaves the threads of my thoughts weave along a looming sky gray clouds grow from the scattered seeds of a plump pumpkin dawn wrecklessly out of season, a moment metamorphasizes me i am the pollywog short of pawtucket falls swimming, waiting to leap   anstey No vim nor vigor Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-648-no-vim-nor-vigor#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10014 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10014 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10014 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10089-thanatopsis https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10089-thanatopsis With apologies to William Cullen Bryant, my un-profound meditation on death anstey No vim nor vigor Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-648-no-vim-nor-vigor#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10089 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10089 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10089