Archives - January 2012


Jan. 23

In the Poetic Sense


Cosmic Irony

Stephen Crane was an interesting fellow.  Though raised in a strict, religious family, he fell in love with the madam of a brothel and stayed with her until his much too early death at the age of twenty-eight from tuberculosis. 


He is best known for his novel The Red Badge of Courage, but I have always loved his poetry, his terse verse, more.  His poems and stories are filled with irony.  As evidence:


A man said to the universe:

"Sir," I exist!"

"However," replied the universe,

"The fact has not created in me

A sense of obligation."

Jan. 16

Ted Hughes


The Tragic Poet


Examination at the Womb-Door


Who owns those scrawny little feet?  Death.

Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face?  Death.

Who owns this utility coat of muscles?  Death.

Who owns these unspeakable guts?  Death.

Who owns these questionable brains?  Death.

All this messy blood?  Death.

These minimum-efficiency eyes?  Death.

This wicked little tongue?  Death.

This occasional wakefulness?  Death.


Given, stolen, or held pending trial?



Who owns the whole rainy, stony earth?  Death.

Who owns all of space?  Death.


Who is stronger than hope?  Death.

Who is stronger than the will?

Stronger than love?  Death.

Stronger than life?  Death.


But who is stronger than Death?

                          Me, evidently.

Pass Crow.

Listening to the whispering pines

Hello. My name is Donna Cozart Pauley. Welcome to The Whispering Pines, a literary blog dedicated to my love of the written word. It is an eclectic collage of my life -- from my poems to my stories to my family to my pets to my causes to my photographs to my recipes to my love of teaching to my favorite literature. Please feel free to comment. Words are only important if they are heard or read. Just like those soundless trees falling in the forest.

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