August 17, 2010 § Leave a comment

‘…beauty will dance with

anyone who is brave enough

to ask her.’

-the book of qualities by j.ruth gendler

Poemas: ‘…saving a place in our story.’

May 27, 2010 § Leave a comment

Some more that have kick-started the imagination more than once…

The Letter
by Mary Ruefle

Beloved, men in thick green coats came crunching
through the snow, the insignia on their shoulders
of uncertain origin, a country I could not be sure of,
a salute so terrifying I heard myself lying to avoid
arrest, and was arrested along with Jocko, whose tear
had snapped off, a tiny icicle he put in his mouth.

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‘…Past the cinema…’

May 26, 2010 § Leave a comment

Meeting with My Father in the Orchard

Past noon. Past the cinema

with the tall sorrowful walls

on the point of coming down, I enter the orchard.

Show over, all of them have gone:

day laborers, dogs and doors.

My father is standing in front of a fig tree.

My mother has died. The children, grown old.

He’s alone, small threads of air weave in and out of his tattered clothes.

For fear of getting too close and startling him with my living presence, I want to go straight by, the strange one now with white hair whom he asks,

“Who’s that there?” “Father, it’s me, your son.”

“Does your mother know you’re back. Will you stay and eat?”

“Father, for years now your wife has lain at rest

by your side in the town graveyard.”

Then, as if he has divined everything,

he calls me by my childhood name

and gives me a fig.

So we met up, the living and the dead.

Then, each went on his way.

by Homero Aridjis

Translated by George McWhirtier

‘…he wore a library across his chest; he had a church on his knees. ‘

April 9, 2010 § 1 Comment

Kissing Stieglitz Good-Bye
by Gerald Stern

Every city in America is approached
through a work of art, usually a bridge
but sometimes a road that curves underneath
or drops down from the sky. Pittsburgh has a tunnel—

you don’t know it—that takes you through the rivers
and under the burning hills. I went there to cry
in the woods or carry my heavy bicycle
through fire and flood. Some have little parks—
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‘a million scintillating suns…’

March 22, 2010 § 2 Comments

Notes from the City of the Sun

by Bei Dao

(excerpts)
Art

A million scintillating suns

appear in the shattered mirror


Business wasn’t all he knew. He knew music, art. Had a heart.

February 4, 2010 § Leave a comment

[Keen and lovely man moved as in a dance]

by Lorine Niedecker

Keen and lovely man moved as in a dance
to be considerate in lighted, glass-walled
almost outdoor office. Business
wasn’t all he knew. He knew music, art.
Had a heart. “With eyes like yours I should think
the dictaphone” or did he say the flute?
His sensitivity—it stopped you.
And the neighbors said “She’s taking lessons
on the dictaphone” as tho it were a saxophone.
He gave the job to somebody else.
*Review to follow later today

stars that you are

January 25, 2010 § Leave a comment

I was looking over the ever-expanding list of poems ,filed under the green poetry tab in my G-mail in box, when I realized a pattern emerging. Stars. Most of these have something to do with stars, the cosmos, or at least some mention of them.  Also, those very verses or stanzas end up as a status msg on g-talk. I think I’ll share them here; they might entice another web-lurker’s imagination, like they did mine.

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