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Tag Archives: poetry
A Brief Encounter
Stark, a shock, magenta tree intensity matched, Briefly, against a sky darkening periwinkleSwirled with black, call it dream this carriageOf color held in its passage, these leaves red When day-dressed, now in evening glamour, Black-rose, killer berry, two energiesPaired married two shades … Continue reading
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Tagged chokecherry, fall sunset, nature poetry, poetry, saturation, seasonal change
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Blink Twice
That sitting in the sunhasn’t changed wheneverything has changed though houses stand streetwiselike gaps in a young girl’s teeth water will seep slowlyunder your fingernails drip by insidious dripsomeone’s nails turn black black velvet paintings once plunged you into raving pleasure zones will you ever get back
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Tagged absurd, Cassandra, new normal, poetry, premonition, surreality, umheimlich
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Continue to Speak this Dialect
“Continue to speak this dialect, now that the house is burning” Giorgio Agamben on poetry, When the House Burns Down. What luxury, this rage! It keeps me hot and vital as any heart medication. First the human project, then the sputtered failure of words. … Continue reading
After Angel Food
The sun did rise again, no buts. Well, a great many things have been saidin the cauldron of hours. We have not beenshaken out of the cage of the bingo spinner.Ginkgo leaves approximate the sun’s brightness; are brightness themselves; no cancelling their it-ness. … Continue reading
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Tagged After manna, C.D. Wright, everyday miracles, poetry, ShallCross
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Google Says: Don’t Say Happy Memorial Day
Memorial Day Morning birds loose a litany of reasons to be alive, to be young and tune their own chords having memorized the sounds of their parents, blowing an adolescent hornsquawking anointed sound. In this trumpeting of summer, the young death thing.Under … Continue reading
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Tagged launchpad of summer, memorial, nature poetry, poetry, simultaneity, three-day weekend, vigil, war poetry
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“What Me, Cruel?”
April stares back at us and asks: What me, cruel? Because mournful windowsrattle in my winds and pots tip over, green with rust or lichen? Because hairs on your bare legsshiver like crocus? She finds us in her glassy eyeand springs: You … Continue reading
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Tagged April is the cruelest month, Baudelaire, nature poetry, poetry, rebirth, reincarnation, Spring poems, T.S. Eliot, The Muse
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In-Betweens of Mud Season
Change of season: vital transition:Material transfusion: new juice. How does the introvert welcome that? Mixed. Don’t make me give upheavy curtains pulled to nurturemy wild interior! My own twigs being burnedfor my inner heat and observation. Observe what comes upfrom winter’s meditation. Attention to … Continue reading
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Tagged dickinson, early spring, late winter, liminal, mud season, Nature, poetry
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The Dirty Socks Part of March
We’ve entered the dirty socks part of March, the dingy linen stained grunge metal time when winter’s rough hide pokes up in earth’s skin. It’s the shoulder season – not white shoulder, not tanned shoulder – the prickly wan unexercised but … Continue reading
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Tagged early spring, March, nature poetry, paradox, poetry, prose poetry, radio lab, seasonal change, Steve Strogatz, Tadashi Tokleda
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