Frank Rubino
Goodreads Author
Twitter
Genre
Member Since
May 2008
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Boy American
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published
2014
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Frank's Lunch Service
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The Red Wheelbarrow 14
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Red Wheelbarrow 16
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Red Wheelbarrow 17
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The Red Wheelbarrow 18
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Frank’s Recent Updates
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"This is a fine collection by an author who deserves a wide audience. His source material is both idiosyncratic and intimate: family-life, Ovid, Marvel comics, his suburban neighborhood, his blue-collar roots….Some of the poems, like great song lyrics"
Read more of this review »
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Frank Rubino
finished reading
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Frank Rubino
is now following robert g. goldstein's reviews
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Frank Rubino
rated a book it was amazing
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Frank Rubino
rated a book it was amazing
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Frank Rubino
rated a book it was amazing
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| 2023 yearly journal of the Red Wheelbarrow poets community featuring Frances Lombardi. Includes a section by Nutley, NJ High School poets, and a section by guest editor Theresa Burns. | |
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Frank Rubino
rated a book it was amazing
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| 2023 yearly journal of the Red Wheelbarrow poets community featuring Frances Lombardi. Includes a section by Nutley, NJ High School poets, and a section by guest editor Theresa Burns. | |
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Frank Rubino
rated a book it was amazing
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| Deep, lengthy Frank Rubino feature and a plethora of other great poets from the Red Wheelbarrow Poets community. | |
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Frank Rubino
rated a book it was amazing
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Frank Rubino
rated a book it was amazing
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“Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.
"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
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"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
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“The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.”
― Timon of Athens
― Timon of Athens
“Language disguises the thought; so that from the external form of the clothes one cannot infer the form of the thought they clothe, because the external form of the clothes is constructed with quite another object than to let the form of the body be recognized.”
― Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus
― Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus




















