#randalljarrell

The people who live in a golden age usually go around complaining how yellow everything looks.- #RandallJarrell 📸: @rnvntx #briannagarcia #briannalust (at Downtown, Los Angeles)

Randall Jarrell

Sold! Yours for a Grand: Maurice Sendak's The Bat-Poet buff.ly/2H989ic #MauriceSendak #RandallJarrell https://www.instagram.com/p/B1SJE5bh4Rq/?igshid=1mw628rq8er4r

Yours for a Grand: Maurice Sendak's The Bat-Poet buff.ly/2ZYfkAV #MauriceSendak #RandallJarrell https://www.instagram.com/p/B1HkTw9BYyR/?igshid=14625n2dvcfi0

Yours for a Grand: Maurice Sendak's The Bat-Poet buff.ly/2H0VQEx #MauriceSendak #RandallJarrell https://www.instagram.com/p/B1AFDZjBt6o/?igshid=1u1t707tz6ka5

Yours for a Grand: Maurice Sendak's The Bat-Poet buff.ly/2KnF0jT #MauriceSendak #RandallJarrell https://www.instagram.com/p/B0wXonGhY8T/?igshid=yc75yqe5ub9b

„On my way home I pass a cameraman On a platform on the bumper of a car Inside which, rolling and plunging, a comedian Is working; on one white lot I see a star Stumble to her igloo through the howling gale Of the wind machines. On Melrose a dinosaur And pterodactyl, with their immense pale Papier-mâché smiles, look over the fence Of The Lost World. [...] My lifetime Got rid of, I sit in a dark blue sedan Beside my great-grandmother, in Hollywood. We pass a windmill, a pink sphinx, an Allbran Billboard; thinking of Salâmmbo, Robin Hood, The old prospector with his flapjack in the air, I sit with my hands folded: I am good. [...] There off Sunset, in the lamplit starlight, A scientist is getting ready to destroy The world. "It's time for you to say good night," Mama tells me; I go on in breathless joy. "Remember, tomorrow is a school day," Mama tells me; I go on in breathless joy. [...] Into the blue wonderland Of Hollywood, the sun sinks, past the eucalyptus, The sphinx, the windmill, and I watch and read and Hold my story tight. And when the bus Stops at the corner and Pop—Pop!—steps down And I run out to meet him, a blurred nimbus, Half-red, half-gold, enchants his sober brown Face, his stooped shoulders, into the All-Father's. He tells me about the work he's done downtown, We sit there on the steps. My universe Mended almost, I tell him about the scientist. I say, "He couldn't really, could he, Pop ?" My comforter's Eyes light up, and he laughs. "No, that's just play, Just make-believe," he says. The sky is gray, We sit there, at the end of our good day.“ #poem #excerpts #TheLostWorld by #RandallJarrell https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57098/the-lost-world-56d23a407f617 (at Los Feliz) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuWpIjnn8F2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1a3odpfkeu84h

But be, as you have been, my happiness... #RandallJarrell #Randall #Jarrell #quote #sinetos #quotes (at Νέα Καμένη (Nea Kameni)) https://www.instagram.com/p/BsjcWPbAqg0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=19g9cw5510xrv