February 2010
30 posts
5 tags
Love's Not the Way to Treat a Friend, Richard...
Love’s not the way to treat a friend. I wouldn’t wish that on you. I don’t want to see your eyes forgotten on a rainy day, lost in the endless purse      of those who can remember nothing. Love’s not the way to treat a friend. I don’t want to see you end up that was with your body being poured like wounded marble into the architecture of those who make...
Feb 1st
134 notes
January 2010
33 posts
4 tags
90, Osip Mandlestam
With no faith in the miracle of resurrection we wandered through the cemetery. —You know, everywhere the earth reminds me of those hills … . … . where Russia breaks off above the black desolate sea. A wide meadow falls away under the monastery. I wanted to stay in the plains of Vladimir, and not go south, but to linger in the dark wooden colony of holy fools with that foggy nun was...
Jan 31st
8 notes
4 tags
Hinged to Forgetfulness like a Door, Richard...
Hinged to forgetfulness like a door, she slowly closed out of sight, and she was the woman that I loved, but too many times she slept like a mechanical deer in my caresses, and I ached in the metal silence of her dreams.
Jan 29th
57 notes
5 tags
The Couple in the Next Room, John Ashbery
She liked the blue drapes. They made a star At the angle. A boy in leather moved in. Later they found names form the turn of the century Coming home one evening. The whole of being Unknown absorbed into the stalk. A free Bride on the rails warning to notice other Hers and the great graves that outwore them Like faces on a building, the lighting rod Of a name calibrated all their musing...
Jan 29th
13 notes
7 tags
The One You Wanted to Be Is the One You Are, Jean...
She saying, You don’t have to do anything you don’t even have to be, you Only who are, you nobody from nowhere, without one sin or one good quality, without one book, without one word, without even a comb, you! The one you wanted to be in the one you are. Come play… And he saying, Look at me! I don’t know how… Their breath like a tree’s breath. Their...
Jan 28th
26 notes
announcement
Ok, since we have a whole lot of new followers thanks to the directory (welcome, all! and thank you tumblr staff) I figure I should announce some things. In the sidebar you’ll find links to Billy Collin’s Poetry 180 project, the inspiration for this whole thing. You’ll also find links to tag pages (one for authors and one for subjects). At the top of each of those pages will be...
Jan 27th
7 tags
The Falling, Jane Hirshfield
You turn towards meteor showers in August, wishing yourself like that: bright and burning wholly out. When feeling finally comes it is that falling, matter breaking away from air, the sound of crickets moving through the grass like fire— and the strangely twisted metal in the field that a child finds: residue, crown. Then there’s the story of the Chinese sage, in anger and...
Jan 27th
41 notes
6 tags
Textures, William Stafford
1. The dwell of a sound for a while will sometimes diminish all else and a whole forest lie down at night for hearing the moon, where the first tick and its tock are still waiting for what time it is. 2. Morning color opens its eyes where it slept in the mountains. Oh, it’s afraid! This might be the day when white comes all the way back from the sky where it went when color...
Jan 26th
21 notes
4 tags
Getting Ready, Jack Gilbert
What if the heart does not pale as the body wanes, but is like the sun that blazes hotter each day on these immense, perishing fields? What then? (Desire is not the problem. This far south, we are careful not to mistake seizures for love.) He sits there bewildered in a clamp of light. In the stillness, the sun grinds him clean.
Jan 24th
39 notes
5 tags
Elegy, Lewis Warsh
The leaves have a sense of where they fall when they return to earth but as they dangle in the wind like corpses swaying from a branch they replace the pure space of their being with an act of attention which passes like a lullaby through the eye of the storm.
Jan 23rd
30 notes
5 tags
Poem, Nikki Giovanni
(For BMC No. 2) There are fields where once we walked Among the clover and crab grass and those Funny little things that look like cotton candy There were liquids expanding and contracting In which we swam with amoebas and other Afro-Americans The sun was no further than my hand from your hair Those were barefoot boy with cheeks of tan days And I was John Henry hammering to get in I was...
Jan 22nd
11 notes
5 tags
Sliver, Sheila Cowing
In the dark, she shivers in his arms, hurt, wild—like that great bird that crashed through the living room window last Christmas—droppings, slivers the whole way into the kitchen. He’d cradled it wearing gardening gloves, it only shuddered. Now, nothing he says quiets her, stops her asking: am i pretty? am i smart? am i all you dreamed of? as though she doesn’t...
Jan 22nd
44 notes
4 tags
The Inheritance, Ed Ochester
So, back to the lost paradise after the neglect of fourteen years. On the porch, at fourteen, I told my father our condition resides within ourselves. I had a red and white motorboat to sail across the green-glazed patio in autumn toward the wall of maples, each golden on the edge of death. Cousin Gunther sat on the patio, telling us secrets and drinking at noon; he knew the names of...
Jan 21st
10 notes
10 tags
The Summer of Ninety-Three, Michael L. Johnson
Today the air conditioner broke down. It’s summer solstice and the hottest day sa far this year. And old girlfriend (same voice but weaker) called to say she was divorced, now living alone in the very house I grew up in—and how weird she had felt sleeping there the first night, lying on top of the covers, thinking back. I thought back to nights in the heat wave of fifty-five,...
Jan 20th
24 notes
4 tags
Donner Party, Richard Brautigan
Forsaken, fucking in the cold, eating each other, lost, runny noses, complaining all the time like so      many people that we know.
Jan 19th
50 notes
2 tags
The Butterfly, Nikki Giovanni
those things which you so laughingly call hands are in fact two brown butterflies fluttering across the pleasure they give my body
Jan 18th
25 notes
4 tags
Faulty Ductwork, Ed Ochester
I have had faulty ducktwork for years. When I vacation, neighbors wire DUCTWORK FAILING WATER EVERYWHERE. There have been three attempts at arson. Invisible rowdies throw stones at my mother. The bats have vacated my house. I have a burning sensation when I urinate, and I am no longer allowed to vote. My oldest boy shoots up nurses, and deer have deserted the meadow. The specialists...
Jan 17th
3 notes
6 tags
Pluto to Persephone, Daniel Williams
I know what it is you want from me but you see I cannot give it I am hell and hell is a nice place to visit but when you want to leave you want to leave when you speak to me you converse with darkness hold my hand old bones rattle when you kiss me imagine kissing the skull of a saint mouldering in a cave large balloon of spirit flown      imagine taste of white bone reposed in...
Jan 16th
171 notes
4 tags
Sliabh, Loch, Agus Fear Ce Taraing Anail Iad, Dan...
translation: Mountains, Lakes, the Men Who Breathe Them Two old men bend toward each other In a pub in Glasgow. One Hunkers down in his coat—the collar pushes folds In his neck—it is cold, and night comes early. The other (who can speak only Gaelic) Breathes heavily, looks inward, And knows it has been this way Since the mines. He tells stories about his life— Bringing...
Jan 14th
7 notes
7 tags
Since Daniel, Stella Reed
for Peter, E.J., Ryan, Sarah, Hal, Brandon, and Chris Since Daniel jumped From the towering cliffs Above the light shimmered lake And caught the wing to his death And fish puckered their mouths Against his quivering body, Since Daniel… Peter cries Harder than I’ve ever seen him, And I am clumsy matter Revolving around small guilty acts Such as flossing my teeth And mopping...
Jan 14th
13 notes
8 tags
How Men Fear Women, Richard Lehnert
Because I couldn’t stop her flying, I joined her where she leaked wet music, entered her from behind and below, watched her shoulders bunch and tent and spread, held her working wings, slip of bone and meat to beat down air, saw her spine leap from the hair of where I joined her to bury myself in the part of hair at the vulva of her skull, and she warned me: Don’t look down....
Jan 13th
48 notes
announcement
Hey everyone. I’m working on updating the tags pages. Currently the version of the author page I’m able to edit is lost in the internet so that’ll take a bit longer but it’ll hopefully be recovered soon. I’ve enabled questions. If you have a question you don’t want to ask via email or a comment or you need to be even MORE anonymous than those modes allow you...
Jan 12th
1 note
7 tags
Alone in the House, Hans Jorg Stahlschmidt
Alone in the house I walk through the sun- filled rooms singing but somebody follows me with a heavy hand on my shoulder To whom did I make this secret promise to turn down my life’s flame The maiden marries the prince but at the banquet one seat remains empty In the mountains the wounded deer with the silver antlers stands still under the trees Nobody knows what was said in...
Jan 12th
7 notes
3 tags
This is My Heart, Joy Harjo
This is my heart. It is a good heart. Bones and a membrane of mist and fire are the woven cover. When we make love in the flower world my heart is close enough to sing to yours in a language that has no use for clumsy human words. My head, is a good head, but it is a hard head and it wirrs inside with a swarm of worries. What is the source of this singing, it asks and if there is a...
Jan 11th
35 notes
7 tags
Married, Jack Gilbert
I came back from the funeral and crawled around the apartment, crying hard, searching for my wife’s hair. For two months got them from the drain, from the vacuum cleaner, under the refrigerator, and off the clothes in the closet. But after other Japanese women came, there was no way to be sure which were hers, and I stopped. A year later, repotting Michiko’s avocado, I find a...
Jan 9th
79 notes
3 tags
The Prisoner, Charles Simic
He is thinking of us. These leaves, their lazy rustle That made us sleepy after lunch So we had to lie down. He considers my hand on her breast, Her closed eyelids eyelids, her moist lips Against my forehead, and the shadows of trees Hovering on the ceiling. It’s been so long. He has trouble Deciding what else is there. And all along the suspicion That we do not exist.
Jan 9th
3 notes
10 tags
In the Vicinity of Orion's Arm, Linda Nemec Foster
“like the star beaming outward past its death” -Robert Wrigley Every day we die a little more. My young son doesn’t believe me; with the telescope he got for Christmas he points to the stars, unfailing lights of the past, as examples of how difficult it is to kill anything. Infinity has not yet begun to trouble him. As if Pascal’s true fear of the eternal...
Jan 7th
23 notes
4 tags
Children's Books, Ed Ochester
In the world more real, the goosegirl is dropped to the ashes, the crystal valley is bombed and its shards rebombed by invisible planes, the adorable kittens are drowned along with their friend, the crazy nice useless old lady. In their dreams of life, children arrive at the reasons like the beanstalk seemingly fated to meet the bloodthirsty giant. Meanwhile, they keep their books...
Jan 7th
5 notes
4 tags
Shard, Christina Pugh
When the dream was winnowed, one phrase stayed: our bodies, black beside the blinking cursor: a phrase to equal two: a phrase I had never spoken to you, that I’d send you now, to your screen. In all our language, yours and mine, there never was the story of our bodies— parted, or wanting, or not knowing. And I was afraid. But I felt the two words lay you down, I felt...
Jan 6th
12 notes
5 tags
Four Songs, Joy Harjo
1. I fell through a hole in the sky from one end of the world to the next. Burning off layers like a comet until I hit the surface of earth. I awaken in a house on the edge of the Pacific near a mango tree with your sweet-smelling head on my arm. 2. The flower might appear vulnerable as it bends with the tradewinds drinks in the sun the rain but its roots extend to hell. It keeps...
Jan 4th
21 notes
6 tags
The Orange Bears, Kenneth Patchen
The orange bears with soft friendly eyes Who played with me when I was ten, Christ, before I left home they’d had Their paws smashed in the rolls, their backs Seared by hot slag, their soft trusting Bellies kicked in, their tongues ripped Out, and I went down through the woods To the smelly crick with Whitman In the Haldeman-Julius edition, And I just sat there worrying my thumbnail...
Jan 4th
5 notes
2 tags
1, Osip Mandlestam
The shy speechless sound of a fruit falling from its tree, and around it the silent music of the forest, unbroken…
Jan 2nd
10 notes
5 tags
False Spring: After Follian, Linda Nemec Foster
They almost believe it: this warm air caressing their faces. The calendar with its languid rows of days whispers late January, but the lovers have forgotten what season it is. As if Time was willing to walk anywhere in his sad, black shoes just for them. What they think they see is each other; what they really see is a transfigured memory of a reclining nude. The head erased by desire, the...
Jan 2nd
23 notes