Burden to Savor
A soft, holy morning like this Awake in bed before dawn Forcing my thoughts of you Upon you Full, ready body Full, ready thoughts Soft, holy distance All upon you Keep yourself well and happy For I know certain things about us That are likely to trouble you But I […]
The world’s best ‘Give me a break’ poem
What She Said, Horoscopes for the Dead, Billy Collins. Read Houston Airport, April 2013. Related articles The Trouble with Poetry and other poems, Billy Collins (booksjadore.wordpress.com) Poetry Friday: “The Lanyard” by Billy Collins (usedbooksinclass.com) Of Rejections and Successes (dadpoet.wordpress.com) Everyday Moments Caught in Time: Billy Collins’ Poetry (goodbookscents.wordpress.com) Poems in motion: Billy Collins at TED2012 […]
Por tachar
Otro nombre más por tachar será el tuyo ya No reparto fechas de entrega Ni requisitos de presentación pero no llamas Simplemente no llamas Tan claro como el requisito de que lo hagas Escrito 2007
Overdue Love Letter
Minus the saliva on paper The hesitant comma Barely smeared Impatient still Signed and dated Sealed I offer every swerve Soft wrist and stiff neck Dear, This is my wet black ink Written 2005
Monday Yeats
Related articles W.B.Yeats, “When You Are Old” (lavenderturquois.wordpress.com) The official poem of bayoufairways (bayoufairways.com) 13th June: Yeats has a fresh, new look! (sligoevents.ie)
The sound of boiling eggs
St. Augustine heard the words Tolle, lege (latin for “take up and read”) spoken by a childlike voice. He understood them as a divine calling to read the Bible, which he did and then immediately converted to Christianity. To view the poem as published in The Southern Poetry Review, click here.
Fifteen Minutes
In the fifteen minutes you claimed would elapse before you arrived at my house wearing a tuxedo, I read Charles Bukowski and saw the December boat parade. Before you arrived, I heard blow horns punctuate the salsa CD spinning in my bedroom. I read about Bukowski’s cats, both of them, and their […]
Construct
God Blog
Blogging is a real religion. It is how I feel small but connected to the big, to the unknown, to the better than I, to that life after I die. It is how I beg to be liked by being good. Written 2013
Airport tea
Tea. Carol Ann Duffy. Read Boston, June 2013
Late Night Poem
It is no secret to me that Leonard Cohen drank too much wine late at night, listening to someone like Leonard Cohen on too much wine late at night. I am no better than myself. The way I break down is sudden and graceful, with altruism, helping hand, my head held up so […]
Autóctono
Un pueblo autóctono, explicaste, pesca y come; encuentra piedras hace regalos; corta paja vende sombreros; inventa sombra y luego la cobra. Escrito 2007
Historic hangover
Hangover. Billy Collins. Read Los Angeles, April 2013.
Tragedy at Sushi Siam
Today I read about poetic time and poetic space, about how allegories are imagined and metrics not. I read about real efforts to compose, allusions, footnotes, tool sheds as help. I read all this believing in it, not knowing that tonight you would be where I was, and I would need […]
La sede
Si la ciencia afirma que lo material creado está; Y la historia señala con diez dedos hacia atrás; Y la poesía rima sin entender el mar; Uno parado en centro mediano de rincón urbano Muy solo tiene que estar. Escrito mayo 2010
Shell
Not a slightly quivering shell covering solace love anymore Nor the sturdy come home sounding doors awake aside Ground fallen stymied lump of grab There here visible unto us Growth of silence flowerlike confident bloom Room light thickened butter weight gasps of air Lungs confront chest mirror throat Styrofoam plea squeaks through Bargain snaps iceberg […]