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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Stethoscope on Glass

Just for clarity’s sake and
to avoid confusion: I’m
only looking for friendship
at the moment

I think you’re a really cool
guy. Super smart.
Interesting. And really
funny. I’ve enjoyed
spending time with you
too, but I’m not interested
in a relationship beyond
friends.

Well I think you’re super-
smart interesting and all of
those good things. I’d
definitely enjoy hanging
out again, but I’m not sure
that I felt that romantic-
datey spark…. I guess I
always try to be upfront
about my feelings in this
way because otherwise
feelings get hurt later on.

But I’m always in the
market for great new
friends in this city

And you qualify.

I had a good time with you,
but I think we’re not a
good match.

Regarding dinner, I
appreciate the offer but,
after much though, I must
decline. I very much
enjoyed the time we spent
together and getting to
know you, but I feel that I
must pursue a different
path right now. You are a
lovely guy and I wish you
all the best. I’m sorry.

Phone died as I was
walking home, sorry. I had
a great time with you as
well and feel we have a lot
in common. I guess I
wasn’t feeling things
romantically,

however, as trite as that
sounds. I hope to keep in
touch, though, as I really
do enjoy your company
and conversation

Sorry I’ve been
flakey since our date.

Wasn’t a matter of not being
interested. You’re
handsome and I enjoyed
your company. I just
don’t wanna make
someone a rebound like I
was. Although I prolly should
have realized that earlier.
Sorry for that.

A part of me is still madly
in love with you.

Keep reading

poetry poem february writing creative writing

Real Estate

Unexpected visits and closed chapters peer from empty corners,

Parsing out “nots” and “can’ts” as we date

Translucent boxes folding into opacity:

The ninth of June

The twenty-third of May

The first of April

 

Starting a fool’s charade with no exit strategy,

Just setting the way to begin is a big bright spot–

But we are a half-finished book named Aeneas,

Fallen heroes, checking

the listings for

God’s promised home.

 

Heading to bed reading (A Resident In Love)

Mickey-Mouse ticks 11:26 on the wall

and the dog-eared page rips on its turn

poetry Creative writing

Frank and Allen

I pretend to be an O’Hara, or maybe a Ginsburg, on most mornings. The grace of various living is like a prayer hastily uttered in the dark before sleep—of course, the one time Jesus listens.

Someday I want you to call me friend, love, for I have gone native in spite of our runs. After handing out flowers to girls on the metro and sharing secrets in digital spaces on Mass, I count pennies for a flight to the Middle, to meet you halfway in your own time and town.

Tradition has resisted questions of fragile duty and the fall of your voice–sighing, important–cracks the blow willow flowering your smiles. And still, I bell-stamp envelopes ringing with new words about old heartaches, marking the tune being fracked from the dusty sediment on the violin across the alleyway in hopes that it will be our first dance.

poetry writing

Sonnet LXXXIII Remix

Wagon

I’ve fallen off the most socially appropriate option:

            A once-willing drinker–one, two, a few.

Saturdays of glass, an un-checkered stalemate, is nothing like

           discovering your unconscious mind is staging a silent revolt.

You learn how fast two people are a multicar pileup on the lookout for changelessness.

 

I swear that we’re not born until we note our place with bookmarkers.

           That measure we’ve shared, and the ticket seats are

numbered in otters, Duke Ellington, and convocation credits.

           Head races, slow hand. Ears roar, tongue quiets.

I swear that I am made of comparative normalcy, of the things you need to pack.

Trust me, Mr. Benjamin, you are pretty much a hit

           –my first attempt–

but the way you choose to look at me soothes unsettlingly. 

           So I could run strange figures in the planbook,

driving to the heat back in California, but there’s not actually a city named Paradise.

The blood lets greyer now, though the bow tie stands forth.

After all, a soothsayer bids I still fit into that old profile.

[Learn more about Out of Sequence: The Sonnets Remixed here.]

Poetry Thougths Shakespeare
britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk

A million first steps - A Digital Scholarship Blog
We have released over a million images onto Flickr Commons for anyone to use, remix and repurpose. These images were taken from the pages of 17th, 18th and 19th century books digitised by Microsoft who then generously gifted the scanned images to us, allowing us to release them back into…

The British Library has just released over a million images into the public domain. In a candid conversation about their limited knowledge of many of these images, they plan to launch a crowdsourcing application at the beginning of next year, to help describe what the images portray.

“Our intention is to use this data to train automated classifiers that will run against the whole of the content. The data from this will be as openly licensed as is sensible (given the nature of crowdsourcing) and the code, as always, will be under an open licence.”

This is a very cool project, and one that importantly creates a structure not only for future academic work, but also art and culture projects as the British Library calls users to “use, remix, and repurpose.”

scholarship academia humanities British Library