Dear Place of Work, Ms. Weber won't be in Today, tomorrow, possibly all week. She suffers from a lack of keratin Upon her toes, and maladies unique: I diagnose presymptomatic states Pertaining to her oddly sound psychosis: Ideopathic syndrome, which dictates A somewhat unpredictable prognosis. And therefore, I prescribe a regimen Of neuroactive exercises, such … Continue reading September 30: Mental Health Day
Month: September 2014
September 29: Cosmetic Changes
Some mornings, through lush breeze and sunlit air, Demand to be seen through unpainted eyes, Since wind feels freshest kissing skin that's bare, Suppressed by artifice and wan disguise. What does the morning care if you've a spot Or if the skin beneath your eyes is dark? When such a day's beginning to be wrought, … Continue reading September 29: Cosmetic Changes
September 28: Outreach
I sang a concert with a hundred friends, A new conductor and a brand-new season, With music that collectively transcends Chronology, geography, and reason. Two times my eyes welled up, and twice they spilled, From Purcell's sorrow and from Bernstein's joy Love and philosophy were thus fulfilled, In such a way that time cannot destroy. … Continue reading September 28: Outreach
September 27: Headcanon
When reading Chekhov with an actor's eye And finding written: “Traraboomdeyay,” I wondered what Chebutykin meant thereby, And what, if anything, he wished to say. And just what Ronald Hingley heard him sing When he transcribed the singing from the Russian. Was he deliberately altering The onomatopoeia for discussion To draw a parallel between the … Continue reading September 27: Headcanon
September 26: A Roll of the Dice
Four cups, five dice a-rattle, then upend The cup and sneak a glance at what's beneath, And hope those private faces don't portend An easy-to-guess lying through one's teeth. For bidding on the pips you don't possess Is risky, but an awful lot of fun, For when the bid is called, whether success Or failure … Continue reading September 26: A Roll of the Dice
September 25: Acquainted With the Sunrise
Encountering a snapshot of the past, Can generate nostalgic introspection, As one finds things that render one aghast But also joy in those small imperfections, Because it means that it was truly real. As you grow chronologically apart, From your work, objectivity anneals Reproachful mind and then forgiving heart. It's sad that it's so easy … Continue reading September 25: Acquainted With the Sunrise
September 24: She For He For She
A he for she means that the he's for me, With masculinity, a he can be In favor of a she's equality And I'm for him who is a he for she, A he for she seemes elementary Since codifying feminimity, Will limit every he as well as she. In patriarchy violent cruelty Can visit … Continue reading September 24: She For He For She
September 23: Testing
As one who rides the bus to work each day, I'm quite familiar with that type of rider Whose seat-bound bag is often in my way, And whose splayed knees expand his quarter wider. I'm hardly shy- I meet his eyes and smile. He acts surprised to find I wish to sit, Oblivious to the … Continue reading September 23: Testing
September 22: In Which I Am Self-Deprecating and Meta
When so much happens in a single day That fourteen lines cannot contain it all, I must cut ruthlessly joy and dismay That seems on recollection more banal Than simple pleasures, grumpy anecdotes, From which my pithy aphorisms spring; Fun to extemporaneously quote, Thus needful, therefore to those words I cling. But my desire to … Continue reading September 22: In Which I Am Self-Deprecating and Meta
September 21: Day of Rest
Can one be said to truly be alone When one is being laid upon by dogs Until they bark at passers-by unknown And neighbors out for their respective jogs? No. Solitude's the proper name for this, Now liberated from all obligation, Except for those I've chosen. I don't miss The trappings of external expectation, But … Continue reading September 21: Day of Rest
Libby Weber 