Tag Archives: poetry

Release

Posted on November 15, 2020 by jillbpearlman

I wanted a cheap fix, a release, an anythingbut the present thing, a veering from catastrophe and know as the wind blowsthere is no quick fix but jeez, how little is granted, how stingy reality, how it seeps its goodness,  what … Continue reading →

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THEY

Posted on November 1, 2020 by jillbpearlman

THEY Kafka saw it, part tragedy, part comic. They pulled us off our axisput us in immobilis, the gnawing cellof isolation, of terror who is there, with a hand to catch — to touch us — Time slows down     stands still the top … Continue reading →

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The God-Emperor

Posted on October 9, 2020 by jillbpearlman
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What Augurs, August?

Posted on August 2, 2020 by jillbpearlman

I always feel trapped by August, its thick cluster of vowels.  Clotted.  Lugubrious, made for a lazy tongue.  Made for  limbs given up to the sun.  If it were a kitchen sauce, it would need to be thinned.  If there … Continue reading →

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covid-19, summer-20

Posted on July 19, 2020 by jillbpearlman

—after Inger Christensen Covid exists.  Covid-19 exists, summer-20 exists.  High noon exists.  Heat exists.  Water in rivers, in seas, in showers, from fire hydrants exists.  Coves exist.  Hidden lanes of purple hydrangea exist.  Overturned bones of kayaks.  Smoothness of stones, … Continue reading →

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Flowers and Monsters

Posted on June 21, 2020 by jillbpearlman

“In recent months I have been intent on seizing happiness.”  So wrote C.D. Wright, my guiding star right now.  If you’re naturally happy, you don’t make declarations to be happy.  You throw out an idea, a wild proposition and follow … Continue reading →

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A Poem for 19 Days into the New Year

Posted on January 19, 2020 by jillbpearlman

19 Days into the New Year Time grows, after New Years, like a cauliflower– half handsome, half deformed, bloomingat its own isotropic rate.  On the 3rd we skatetowards war; a plane of travelers crashesin Iran; Down Under, animals, mostly sheep, … Continue reading →

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Immersed in Oswald’s Nobody

Posted on December 4, 2019 by jillbpearlman

I love the verbal incantation, the spell of words cast by poetry.   Our current social crisis, with its urgency and ER alarms, seems to overwhelm the lure of musical sound.   It’s no wonder that I love the power … Continue reading →

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Continuum

Posted on September 8, 2019 by jillbpearlman

“Some beetle trilling its midnight utterance.”   Beetle song opens Denise Levertov’s “Continuum,” a poem of late-summer return.  Returns can be precarious transitions…maybe you’re like me, having come back home with a certain euphoria, having recalibrated by quieting the melancholy news … Continue reading →

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Independence EveryDay

Posted on July 5, 2019 by jillbpearlman

Celebrations Morning wakes hours before its city creatures.I see light through the shutters:cool insides while their clapboards communicate color — hydrangea pink, hydrangea blue —to the morning.  Slate gray street, a herribone brick sidewalk.  Couples inside, coffee darker than their peignoirs.  It’s a holiday.The … Continue reading →

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