Category Archives: poetry

Prefix: Finding the Measure – Robert Kelly

Prefix: Finding the measure Finding the measure is finding the mantram, is finding the moon, as index of measure, is finding the moon’s source; if that source is Sun, finding the measure is finding the natural articulation of ideas. The … Continue reading

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The Conspiracy, Robert Creeley

The Conspiracy You send me your poems, I’ll send you mine. Things tend to awaken even through random communication Let us suddenly proclaim spring. And jeer at the others, all the others. I will send a picture too if you … Continue reading

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The Lust of the Eyes, Lizzie Siddal

The Lust of the Eyes I care not for my Lady’s soul     Though I worship before her smile; I care not where be my Lady’s goal     When her beauty shall lose its wile. Low sit I down at my Lady’s … Continue reading

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Doomsday, Sylvia Plath

Doomsday The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans Atop the broken universal clock: The hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens. Our painted stages fall apart by scenes While all the actors halt in mortal shock: The idiot bird leaps … Continue reading

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You are Tired (I Think), E.E. Cummings

You Are Tired (I Think) You are tired, (I think) Of the always puzzle of living and doing; And so am I. Come with me, then, And we’ll leave it far and far away— (Only you and I, understand!) You … Continue reading

Posted in Aubrey Beardsley, e.e. cummings, poetry | 1 Comment

For Mark Strand and His Moon, Anne Bach

For Mark Strand and His Moon Reading Mark Strand’s beautiful, sharp, Ragged words, late at night – I wish I had such vision He suddenly reminds me to look out My own window She shines full behind the dark Hanging … Continue reading

Posted in Anne Bach, Art, Arthur Rackham, poetry | 1 Comment

To Arielle and the Moon, David Trinidad

To Arielle and the Moon The night reduced to a siren, a sigh: Beautiful boy on the treadmill Glimpsed sweating through sweating glass— My new moon. Sylvia’s moon: a smiling skull Snagged in witchy branches; fossil Brushed free of blackest … Continue reading

Posted in David Trinidad, Edmund Dulac, poetry | 1 Comment

Eve, Christina Rossetti

Eve “While I sit at the door Sick to gaze within Mine eye weepeth sore For sorrow and sin: As a tree my sin stands To darken all lands; Death is the fruit it bore. “How have Eden bowers grown … Continue reading

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For Jane, with all the love I had, which was not enough

For Jane: With All The Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh, and I call God a liar, I say … Continue reading

Posted in Charles Bukowski, love, poetry, relationships | Leave a comment

Privilege of Being, Robert Hass

Privilege of Being Many are making love. Up above, the angels in the unshaken ether and crystal of human longing are braiding one another’s hair, which is strawberry blond and the texture of cold rivers. They glance down from time … Continue reading

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