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Tag Archives: poetry

Crumble the Mouth-flower Fleet

my love is building a building around you,a frail slippery house,a strong fragile house (beginning at the singular beginning of your smile)a skillful uncouth prison,a precise clumsy prison(building thatandthis into Thus, Around the reckless magic of your mouth) my love is building a magic,a discrete tower of magic and(as i guess) when Farmer Death(whom fairies [...]

Last Conversation With a Houseguest

Me up at does out of the floor quietly Stare a poisoned mouse still who alive is asking What have i done that You wouldn’t have E. E. Cummings

Minoan Spun Metal Or Intractable Amber

Luini in porcelain! The grand piano Utters a profane Protest with her clear soprano. The sleek head emerges From the gold-yellow frock As Anadyomene in the opening Pages of Reinach. Honey-red, closing the face-oval A basket-work of braids which seem as if they were Spun in King Minos’ hall From metal, or intractable amber; The [...]

Used First to Praise the Sea or Sword

At fifty generations’ end (And such abysses time affords us all) I return to the further shore of a great river That the vikings’ dragons did not reach, To the harsh and arduous words That, with a mouth now turned to dust, I used in my Northumbrian, Mercian days Before I became a Haslam or [...]

Tis Not Too Late To Seek A Newer World

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me— That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old; Old age hath yet his honour [...]

Un Pavo Real Delirado en Oro

La Tarde By Leopold Lugones. El cielo funde ya su piedra fina En el horno del sol, que tras del monte, Va esmaltando el metal del horizonte Con los más bellos cromos de su mina. Mordido de color en cada poro. Friega de oro el metal su pulimento, Y exorbita hasta el cénit un violento [...]

A River With A Name Unknown

Let us look for a third tiger. This one will be a form in my dreams like all others, a system, an arrangement of human language, and not the flesh-and-bone tiger that, out of the reach of all mythologies, paces the earth. I know all this; yet something drives me to this ancient, perverse adventure, [...]

I Have Closed Myself As Fingers

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself [...]

Being’s Poem, Just Begun, is Man

When the evening light, slanting into the woods somewhere bathes the tree trunks in gold…      Singing and thinking are the stems neighbor to poetry.      They grow out of Being and reach into its truth.      Their relationship makes us think of what Hölderlin sings of the trees of the woods:           “And to each other they remain [...]

A Boil the Size of an Egg Protruding

All I can tell you is, when the abscess finally drains the odor is so foul it’s evil. And I’m not sure, driving home later that night, still smelling the pallid citrus, whether it’s merely hallucination, the way her memory inhabits me; or if being in that same room, inhaling that same air, made some [...]