The journal
A curated selection from the Moniqs archive, newest first. More stories are being moved over from the original site.
Poetry · Reflection
You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.” ― Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova
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Poetry · Reflection
“A poem is really a kind of machine for producing the poetic state by means of words.” ― Paul Verlaine Paul Verlaine II Anders Zorn – 1895
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Poetry · Reflection
“Stay away from the underground lake I implore, The Siren will see you are heard of no more.” ― E.A. Bucchianeri, Phantom Phantasia: Poetry for the Phantom of the Opera Phan The Siren Edward Armitage – 1888
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Poetry · Reflection
Poetry is emotion put into measure. The emotion must come by nature, but the measure can be acquired by art. Thomas Hardy, 1840-1928 British novelist and poet, note written in 1899 Painting Thomas Hardy by William Strang, 1893
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Poetry · Reflection
“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.” ― Alfred Tennyson Memories John White Alexander – circa 1903
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Poetry · Reflection
“Mirrors in metal, and the masked Mirror of mahogany that in its mist Of a red twilight hazes The face that is gazed on as it gazes” ― Jorge Luis Borges The Little Round Mirror Edward Steichen – 1901
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Poetry · Reflection
“Hope and Memory have one daughter and her name is Art, and she has built her dwelling far from the desperate field where men hang out their garments upon forked boughs to be banners of battle. O beloved daughter of Hope and Memory, be with me for a while.” ― W.B. Yeats Hope and
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Poetry · Reflection
I sit beside the fire and think Of all that I have seen Of meadow flowers and butterflies In summers that have been Of yellow leaves and gossamer In autumns that there were With morning mist and silver sun And wind upon my hair I sit beside the fire and think Of how the world
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Poetry · Reflection
“Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” ― E.E. Cummings Christian Rohlfs, Dancing around the Ball of the Sun, 1916
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Poetry · Reflection
Evening Slowly the evening puts on the garments held for it by a rim of ancient trees; you watch: and the lands divide from you, one going heavenward, one that falls; and leave you, to neither quite belonging, not quite so dark as the house sunk in silence, not quite so surely pl
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Poetry · Reflection
IN THE EVENING BY ANNA AKHMATOVA The garden rang with music Of inexpressible despair. A dish of oysters spread on ice Smelled like the ocean, fresh and sharp. He told me: “I’m a faithful friend!”- And lightly touched my dress. How different from embraces The touch of those two ha
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Poetry · Reflection
“The beautiful is always bizarre.” ― Charles Baudelaire “An artist is a kaleidoscope endowed with consciousness…an ego athirst for the non-ego, and reflecting it at every moment in energies more vivid than life itself, always inconstant and fleeting. The poet is like those wander
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