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Poetry Friday

AFTER READING LAO TZU

The one who speaks does not know. The one who knows does not speak,

wrote the old master, which perhaps describes the situation. Meaning we were all sad.

Meaning that when you were seized by desire, it was nothing more than flesh, bared above the collarbone

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Poetry Friday

TO PURITY

I have heard so much about you

if you claim to be you I will know it’s not true

if you say nothing I will listen as I do with my own old mixed feelings of hope and reservation

hearing through them whatever might be you

the way I see the white [...]

Poetry Friday

SPONTANEOUS ME

Spontaneous me, Nature, The loving day, the mounting sun, the friend I am happy with, The arm of my friend hanging idly over my shoulder, The hill-side whiten’d with blossoms of the mountain ash, The same, late in autumn—the hues of red, yellow, drab, purple, and light and dark green, The rich [...]

Poetry Friday

REMEMBER, BODY …  

Body, remember not only how much you were loved, not only the beds where you lay, but also those desires for you, shining clearly in eyes and trembling in a voice—and some chance obstacle thwarted them. Now when everything is the past, it almost looks as if you gave yourself [...]

Video Poetry (Looks Edition Redux)

EELS – THE LOOK YOU GAVE THAT GUY

I never thought that I could be so bold, 
 To even say these thoughts aloud. I see you with your man, your eyes just shine, While he stands tall and walking proud.


That look you give that guy, I wanna see … Looking [...]

Video Poetry (Looks Edition)

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Poetry Friday

BLUE OR GREEN

We don’t belong to each other.             We belong together.                                                                     Some poems belong together to prove the intentionality of subatomic particles.                                      Some poems eat with scissors.                                                      Some poems are like kissing a porcupine.                    God, by the way, is disappointed in some of your recent choices.                Some poems swoop. [...]

Poetry Friday

SHADWELL STAIR

I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair.        Along the wharves by the water-house,        And through the cavernous slaughter-house, I am the shadow that walks there.

Yet I have flesh both firm and cool,        And eyes tumultuous as the gems        Of moons and lamps in the full Thames When dusk sails wavering [...]

Poetry Friday

these quiet nights

after the storm there is a hush.

a held breath in moist silences.

after the storm, these quiet nights are all that remain.

we work hard all our lives battling forces we cannot defeat,

our voices mingling with the roar of passing time.

but after the storm there are chances to [...]

Video Poetry (Lullabies Edition)

FLOGGING MOLLY – DRUNKEN LULLABIES

Must it take a life for hateful eyes To glisten once again Five hundred years like Gelignite Have blown us all to hell What Savior rests while on his cross we die Forgotten freedom burns Has the Shepherd led his lambs astray to the bigot and the gun [...]