I've been reading some famous poems and poets recently in my very limited spare time and while I'd like to dive deep and find some hitherto unknown poetic master, I simply haven't needed to. There are so many "well known" works that I've never stopped to look at. Their words live on in an ever expanding...something. It's as though we, by opening a book (or internet page for some), like Odysseus and Aeneas, can cross into the underworld to consult with the past. From that comes the first two lines of a potential something to write in the future:
Such beauty, and such thought, there is in these Elysian Fields,
Filled not with titans, but giants, upon whose shoulders we might climb
don't @ me
9 years ago
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