For Once, Then, Something

For Once, Then, Something
BY ROBERT FROST

Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.

 

too busy for jazz

when you think you’re too busy for jazz because you have things on your to-do list but then you just put it on and can’t stop listening and everything makes sense once again

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calm’d–see here it is–
I hold it towards you.

John Keats (1795–1821)

the value of music

what is the value of music? what is it for? how would you put it in words?

would be great to find out what you think!

(below: a young beethoven, probably trying to answer the same question)

Joseph would be proud

that moment when, if you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it people will eventually come to believe it, and even though everyone knows about this, the mainstream media tells even bigger lies keeps repeating them and sends them to your phone.

and people believe all of it