| Babbo's Books New and Used Books for Everyone 242 Prospect Park West, Brooklyn, NY 11215 (718) 788 - 3475 admin@babbosbooks.com |
Babbo's Books New and Used Books for Everyone |
242 Prospect Park West, Brooklyn, NY 11215 (718) 788 - 3475 admin@babbosbooks.com |
| Hours of Operation Mon - Sat 11am - 8pm Sunday 12 - 8pm If I am closed during these hours, check the clock on the door. |
| Babbo's is seeking authors for an upcoming series, Brooklyn: How Sweet It Was If you have written about our beautiful borough in the past tense, contact me. I'm interested in stories (fiction or non-fiction) that take place any time before the 1980s. |
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Seeking art Talented, interesting artists contact me if you're interested displaying your art on the walls of Babbo's Books. Local authors who are interested in doing readings should drop off a copy of their book for me to take a look at. Readings of more than one author are preferred. |
| Doubletake by Seamus Heaney Human beings suffer, Call the miracle self-healing: they torture one another, The utter self-revealing they get hurt and get hard. double-take of feeling. No poem or play or song if there's fire on the mountain can fully right a wrong or lightning and storm inflicted and endured. and a god speaks from the sky. The innocent in gaols That means someone is hearing beat on their bars together. the outcry and the birth-cry A hunger-striker's father of new life at its term. stands in the graveyard dumb. The police widow in veils faints at the funeral home History says, Don't hope on this side of the grave. But then, once in a lifetime the longed for tidal wave of justice can rise up, and hope and history rhyme. So hope for a great sea-change on the far side of revenge. Believe that a further shore is reachable from here. Believe in miracles and cures and healing wells. |
| Song For Baby-O, Unborn Sweetheart when you break thru you'll find a poet here not quite what one would choose. I won't promise you'll never go hungry or that you won't be sad on this gutted breaking globe but I can show you baby enough to love to break your heart forever -Diane DiPrima |
| Sonnet: by Edna St. Vincent Millay If I should learn, in some quite casual way, That you were gone, not to return again-- Read from the back-page of a paper, say, Held by a neighbor in a subway train, How at the corner of this avenue And such a street (so are the papers filled) A hurrying man--who happened to be you-- At noon to-day had happened to be killed, I should not cry aloud--I could not cry Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place-- I should but watch the station lights rush by With a more careful interest on my face, Or raise my eyes and read with greater care Where to store furs and how to treat the hair. |
| Two by Emily Dickinson: |
| I'm nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell! They'd banish us, you know. How dreary to be somebody! How public, like a frog To tell your name the livelone day To an admiring bog! |
| Much madness is divinest sense to a discerning eye Much sense the starkest madness Tis the majority In this as all previals; Assent and you are sane, Demur, you're straughtway dangerous, And handled with a chain |
| How Everything Happens (Based on a study of the Wave) happen. to up stacking is something When nothing is happening When it happens something pulls back not to happen. When has happened. pulling back stacking up happens has happened stacks up. when it something nothing pulls back while happens. and forward pushes up stacks something Then |