The way an oyster does A Fragment by Kay Ryan www.csmonitor.com Her poems, [Kay Ryan] says, don't begin with a simple image or sound, but instead start "the way an oyster does, with an aggravation." An old saw may nudge her repeatedly, such as "It's always darkest before the dawn" or "Why did the chicken cross the road?" "I think, 'What about those chickens?' " she says, "and I start an investigation of what that means. Poets rehabilitate clichés." poetrymeaningcliché
Crown A Poem by Kay Ryan www.poetryfoundation.org Too much rain loosens trees. In the hills giant oaks fall upon their knees. You can touch parts you have no right to— places only birds should fly to. naturetreesmelancholytouch
Don't Rush to Simplicity An Article by Shawn Wang www.swyx.io You've probably heard this story before: A businessman finds a fisherman, who is living an idyllic, peaceful life by the sea. He laughs and tells the fisherman how to get rich instead. The fisherman asks him what he will do after he gets rich. He replies that he would retire to an idyllic, peaceful life by the sea. There's supposed to be a deep life lesson in there, but it's always felt insincere to me. To me it is better to have reached the heights of a career, or suffered an epic defeat, even if I do end up in the same place as everyone else in the end. To me simplicity is made more beautiful when understood through a long personal struggle with complexity. When I can dance with it, having turned a mighty nemesis into an old friend, and teach others to do the same. Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. On the other side of complexityMountains are mountains zensimplicity