The journal
A curated selection from the Moniqs archive, newest first. More stories are being moved over from the original site.
Poetry · Reflection
RECLINING FIGURE Then the knee of the wave turned to stone By the cliff of her flank I anchored. in the darkness of harbors laid-by Henry Moore Poem by Donald Hall (1928- ) Statue is Reclining Figure (1951) by Henry Moore Plaster and Figure (Tate Gallery London)
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Poetry · Reflection
Let me sleep Leave me be Let my eyes close Leave my soul to fade away, forever more Let me rest in peace Leave my blood to freeze Let me travel to the unknown Leave the body; it’s just flesh and bone Let my spirit wander in darkness Leave memories of past in fondness Burn
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Poetry · Reflection
The hope I dreamed of was a dream, Was but a dream; and now I wake Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree, A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt For a dream’s sake. Lie still, lie
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Poetry · Reflection
And then we added the colors in the rain The hundred pins in the skeletons of dust In the dawn and evening Of the wedding of mourning In the earth of the harsh country But if the sun falls Within you in the years And the heart is not yet sweet Let no one touch
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Poetry · Essay
“One must write poetry in such as way that if one threw the poem in a window, the pane would break.” ― Daniil Kharms (1905-1942) Daniil Ivanovich Yuvachev(Даниил Иванович Юёв) was born in St. Petersburg, into the family of Ivan Yuvachev, a well known member of the revolutionary g
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Poetry · Reflection
At times poetry is the vertigo of bodies and the vertigo of speech and the vertigo of death; the walk with eyes closed along the edge of the cliff, and the verbena in submarine gardens; the laughter that sets on fire the rules and the holy commandments; the descent of parachuting
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Poetry · Reflection
A poet can survive everything but a misprint. ~Oscar Wilde
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Poetry · Reflection
“She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood. She only looked away
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Poetry · Reflection
Know that space dilates with your own breath; sing out, as a bird in the desert from the shadowy rafters of its own high perch- Our senses cannot fathom this darkness, so learn the transformations through and through staving off the inevitable is futile, non-efficacious and fruit
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Poetry · Essay
For sure you must have a soul Somewhere there buried inside With strong metal welded shut tide You play your mister perfect role But things are not as they always seem Fragile are the walls that you keep up And if I could peak through the cracks Its all just compromises into extr
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Poetry · Reflection
Poetry, whose material is language, is perhaps the most human and least worldly of the arts, the one in which the end product remains closest to the thought that inspired it. Hannah Arendt
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Poetry · Essay
TERESA WILMS MONTT POET FROM CHILE (Viña del Mar, 1893 – París 1921): She was born in a wealthy family, daughter of Federico Guillermo Wilms Montt and Brieba, and his wife Luz Victoria Montt and Montt. Given the social context of that time, her primary instruction was given to he
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