171 episodes

"You feel right to me," she said. "Like naked on cashmere."

Atticus presents a daily poetry reading of all his poems you know and love, and some you have yet to discover.

This is a moment to pause. A space for self-reflection. A chance for you to rediscover the poetry in life. We hope it’s going to feel really good — like naked on cashmere.

Naked on Cashmere Podcast Nation

    • Books

"You feel right to me," she said. "Like naked on cashmere."

Atticus presents a daily poetry reading of all his poems you know and love, and some you have yet to discover.

This is a moment to pause. A space for self-reflection. A chance for you to rediscover the poetry in life. We hope it’s going to feel really good — like naked on cashmere.

    She Had an Uncanny Energy

    She Had an Uncanny Energy

    She had an uncanny energy for life
    thankful for every little miracle it bestowed—
    and it made her
    entirely impossible
    to live without.

    xx Atticus

    • 3 min
    “Leisure” by W. H. Davies

    “Leisure” by W. H. Davies

    “Leisure” by W. H. Davies



    What is this life if, full of care,

    We have no time to stand and stare.

    No time to stand beneath the boughs

    And stare as long as sheep or cows.

    No time to see, when woods we pass,

    Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

    No time to see, in broad daylight,

    Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

    No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,

    And watch her feet, how they can dance.

    No time to wait till her mouth can

    Enrich that smile her eyes began.

    A poor life this if, full of care,

    We have no time to stand and stare.



    xx Atticus

    • 4 min
    She Wasn't Happy or Sad

    She Wasn't Happy or Sad

    She wasn’t happy or sad,
    in love or out of love,
    she was just there
    existing
    in the ebb and flow of life—
    and that was a dangerous place to be
    but her worst mistake
    was forgetting to remember
    there was more.

    xx Atticus

    • 3 min
    In The Mornings

    In The Mornings

    In the mornings
    she taught me French
    and after breakfast she would paint
    and I would write
    and as the spring rain fell on the skylight
    and the tea steamed from its mugs
    my heart hummed
    to the music
    of the dream
    we’d found.

    xx Atticus

    • 1 min
    “i carry your heart with me” by e e cummings

    “i carry your heart with me” by e e cummings

    "i carry your heart with me" by e e cummings




    i carry your heart with me

    (i carry it in my heart)

    i am never without it

    (anywhere i go you go,my dear;

    and whatever is done

    by only me is your doing,my darling)

    i fear no fate

    (for you are my fate,my sweet)

    i want no world

    (for beautiful you are my world,my true)

    and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

    and whatever a sun will always sing is you




    here is the deepest secret nobody knows

    (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

    and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;

    which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

    and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart




    i carry your heart




    (i carry it in my heart)

    • 4 min
    Does The Sun Promise To Shine?

    Does The Sun Promise To Shine?

    Does the sun promise to shine?
    No, but it will—
    even behind the darkest clouds,
    and no promise
    will make it shine longer or brighter
    for that is its fate,
    to burn until it can burn no more.
    To love you is not my promise
    but my fate—
    to burn for you
    until I can burn no more

    xx Atticus

    • 3 min