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Deborah J. Brasket, Author

~ Writing on the Edge of the Wild

Deborah J. Brasket, Author

Category Archives: Poetry

A Poet’s “Sense Sublime” – Part III, “Some Tragic Falling Off”

February 12, 2014

Language is that which gives rise to difference, to the desire for difference, and, at the same time, the desire …

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“Some Tragic Falling Off” into Difference and Desire

January 19, 2014

I’ve been thinking a lot about desire and loss lately and remembering a paper I wrote exploring this topic. It …

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Meditation at Lagunitas by Robert Hass

January 16, 2014

Meditation at Lagunitas By Robert Hass All the new thinking is about loss. In this it resembles all the old …

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“Taste and see – I am spare”

January 9, 2014

That age-old question “who am I?” haunts us from birth. We sense we are more than what we seem to …

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Cultivating “a mind of winter”

January 2, 2014

I fell in love with Wallace Stevens’ poetry when I first read “The Idea of Order at Key West” in …

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Music for Sailing Among the Stars

November 14, 2013

One of my poems has been set to music. An amazing composer, Troy Armstrong, emailed me earlier this year and …

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Blogging and “The Accident of Touching”

September 17, 2013

These are the last lines of a poem I wrote long ago. The accident of touching is so rare! Sometimes …

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Emily Dickinson, Blogger Extraordinaire

September 14, 2013

I cannot help wondering whether Emily Dickinson, that famous recluse, would not have been an avid blogger if she had …

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Unwanted Solicitor, or Failing to See Humanity Behind the Hand

September 10, 2013

Unwanted Solicitor, or Failing to see Humanity Behind the Hand by Deborah J. Brasket He stood there, a youth from …

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Epitaph for a Tombstone – Exploring Infinity

August 14, 2013

I came across this recently, something I wrote years and years ago. So much has changed since then, but not …

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Purpose of Blog

After sailing around the world in a small boat for six years, I came to appreciate how tiny and insignificant we humans appear in our natural and untamed surroundings, living always on the edge of the wild, into which we are embedded even while being that thing which sets us apart. Now living again on the edge of the wild in a home that borders a nature preserve, I am re-exploring what it means to be human in a more than human world.

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