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Richard Sachs Cycles

Poetry Friday

THE SNOW FAIRY

I

Throughout the afternoon I watched them there, Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky, Whirling fantastic in the misty air, Contending fierce for space supremacy. And they flew down a mightier force at night, As though in heaven there was revolt and riot, And they, frail things had taken panic flight [...]

Poetry Friday

WHEN A WOMAN LOVES A MAN

When she says margarita she means daiquiri. When she says quixotic she means mercurial. And when she says, “I’ll never speak to you again,” she means, “Put your arms around me from behind as I stand disconsolate at the window.”

He’s supposed to know that.

When a man loves [...]

Poetry Friday

THE POEMS I HAVE NOT WRITTEN

I’m so wildly unprolific, the poems I have not written would reach from here to the California coast if you laid them end to end.

And if you stacked them up, the poems I have not written would sway like a silent Tower of Babel, saying nothing

and everything [...]

Poetry Friday (but belated a day)

WINTER

And the robin flew Into the air, the air, The white mist through; And small and rare The night-frost fell Into the calm and misty dell.

And the dusk gathered low, And the silver moon and stars On the frozen snow Drew taper bars, Kindled winking fires In the hooded briers.

And the sprawling [...]

Christmas morning …

ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST’S NATIVITY

I

This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heaven’s eternal King, Of wedded maid and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing,    That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with [...]

Poetry Friday

EDEN

Yellow-oatmeal flowers of the windmill palms like brains lashed to fans- even they think of cool paradise,

Not this sterile air-conditioned chill or the Arizona hell in which they sway becomingly. Every time I return to Phoenix I see these palms

as a child’s height marks on a kitchen wall, taller now [...]

Poetry Friday

APPROACH OF WINTER

The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go or driven like hail stream bitterly out to one side and fall where the salvias, hard carmine,— like no leaf that ever was— edge the bare garden.

  — William Carlos Williams (1883 – [...]

Poetry Friday

IN DREAR NIGHTED DECEMBER

In drear nighted December,     Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er remember     Their green felicity— The north cannot undo them With a sleety whistle through them Nor frozen thawings glue them     From budding at the prime.

In drear-nighted December,     Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne’er remember     Apollo’s summer look; But [...]

Poetry Friday

WINTER TREES

All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among the long branches. Thus having prepared their buds against a sure winter the wise trees stand sleeping in the cold.

  — William Carlos Williams (1883 – 1963), American poets & essayist.

Poetry Friday

CHAOS IS THE NEW CALM

Chaos is the new calm violence the new balm to be spread on lips unused to a kiss.

Left is the new right as I brace for a fight with a man who stands on his remaining hand.

Fetid harbor harbor me until someone is free to drive me [...]