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Richard Sachs Cycles

Poetry Friday

COMING

You are driving to the airport Along the glittering highway Through the warm night, Humming to yourself. The yellow rose buds that stood On the commode faded and fell Two days ago. Last night the Petals dropped from the tulips On the dresser. The signs of Your presences are leaving the House one by [...]

Video Poetry (Waiting Edition)

TOM WAITS – HOLD ON

They hung a sign up in our town “If you live it up, you won’t live it down” So she left Monte Rio, son Just like a bullet leaves a gun With her charcoal eyes and Monroe hips She went and took that California trip Oh, the moon was [...]

Another trip around the sun …

CROSSROADS  

The second half of my life will be black to the white rind of the old and fading moon. The second half of my life will be water over the cracked floor of these desert years. I will land on my feet this time, knowing at least two languages and who my friends [...]

Video Poetry (Occupied Edition)

THE NEW PORNOGRAPHERS – LETTER FROM AN OCCUPANT

I’m told the eventual downfall is just a bill from the restaurant. You told me I could order the moon, babe, just as long as I shoot what I want. What the last ten minutes have taught me, bet the hand that your money’s on. Where [...]

Poetry Friday

SNOW-BOUND [The sun that brief December day]  

The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon. Slow tracing down the thickening sky Its mute and ominous prophecy, A portent seeming less than threat, It sank from sight before it [...]

Poetry Friday

SUMMITS

Mountains bloom in spring they shine in summer they burn in autumn but they belong to winter every day we travel farther and at evening we come to the same country mountains are waiting but is it for us all day the night was shining through them and many of the birds were theirs

[...]

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 down [...]

Poetry Friday

No, I didn’t forget.

ARS POETICA

A poem should be palpable and mute As a globed fruit,

Dumb As old medallions to the thumb,

Silent as the sleeve-worn stone Of casement ledges where the moss has grown—

A poem should be wordless As the flight of birds.

*

A poem should be motionless in [...]

Poetry Friday

THE WEARY BLUES  

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,       I heard a Negro play.

Down on Lenox Avenue the other night By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light       He did a lazy sway …       He did a lazy sway … To [...]

Quote of the Day

“Usually in life, when we act, when we exist, we tend to have a very wretched and small notion of what we are doing. Sometimes, we try to be good boys and girls. We struggle, taking our journey stitch by stitch. We go to sleep at night, we get up the next day, and we [...]