The 9th of August I water echinacea and watch melons grow. I find the scattered feathers of Turkeys in the morning, and the blood dripped dried below. I watch infinity’s strata unfold as keets corralled amass and grow into spotted Guinea Fowl. I recall, remember, am reminded of the depth of space, the tininess of
I stand before a summer day. Softer, warmer, brighter than the day I’m in. Monet’s vertical canvas, the object of my looking, dissolves, and I am left in space itself. Nature can be this for the mind, a tabula rasa. Hm… I’m not frightened by the vastness, the entrance is not a jolt or a
On the train by the dim / Lit water blue / With white boats / Sloping in, the train / Too metallic and / Rusted for the soft / Evening, the light inside / Too green, reminiscent / Of death and / Cleaning supplies
Dispatches from a Dead Language
When I started to learn Latin, I saw it everywhere. Location played a big role in this — Latin seems woven into the regional character of Italy, where I undertook a summer course in the language in a three-week intensive program at the University of Bologna. Bologna was sweltering, the streets in the center of
Happy Summer Break!
A message from Marga Hattingh, the blog editor: From Pankow to puppets to puppies, poems to podcasts to horoscopes to reflective articles, Die Bärliner has travelled far and wide this last academic year. We’re sad to see you go for the summer… which is why we’ll be sticking around. In your inbox. Probably every week.
The Art of Summer Transformation
Don’t hate the circumstance, you may miss the blessing. – Marshall Rosenberg I am running towards something unknown in a never-ending direction, with no lights, and no passers-by. The night is cold, and my sight clouded, long thin shadows run alongside me – I don’t know where to turn. I am utterly lost. In the