Poem: Gift of the book

lights go off
all over
rhode island
everyone falls
into bed
I stay awake
reading
re-reading
the long-awaited
prose
of your
body
stunned
by the hunger 

– C.D. Wright

03.04.2014 • Permalink

Spam poetry: Good day Ayden

I am creative, energetic and cheerful
girl.

I like to make my days
bright,

I like to surround myself with
new

and intersting people
www.roberta.co.ua/

I like to learn and read
a lot.

I dream of meeting
a man

who is ambitious, determined,
who knows

how to treat a woman.

I would like to have a nice,
cosy home,

have opportunity to travel and see
the world

together with my beloved
man.

See you
later,

Iren

06.03.2014 • Permalink

Broadway Melody

Fred Astaire

(In honor of World Poetry Day, here’s one I wrote back in 2000.)

Perhaps my favourite moments
are his entrances;

The sly, knowing glance he throws her way,
the sauntering stroll onto stage,
hands in pockets, swing in step,
on feet that effortlessly
adhere to other rhythms;

But most of all, the anticipation:
knowing wonders of grace are imminent
and that curious moment
when his body turns to mercury:

Wordlessly, he sings a virtuoso counterpoint,
visual tones in the keys of detached nonchalance,
studied elegance
and suspension of disbelief;

Now, who would doubt an instant
the footprints on the ceiling
or argue the grace of the hatstand?

Perhaps my favourite moments
are his entrances;
magic as real as anything;
a myth and a memory, forever entangled
like two lovers dancing,

cheek to cheek

21.03.2012 • Permalink

You were right;
This real person in my arms
is who I want
not the moment of passion on the
barricades,
not the dream of the ideal
love in a perfect world.

Survive in this world
love as you can
and go on with your work

Pasternak: In Memoriam,  Edward Field

08.03.2012 • Permalink

The Poetry of Cary Tennis

#1

This is written just upon
arising. That may be another reason.
The
stress, you know,

of large sums of money.
Yesterday was Many Forms Day,

like going into the Army.

We made tea with
tea bags
and tried not to
laugh.

#2

Like, it's only
the mystery of existence,
and don't worry, I have
devices.
(But I do have to
get up in the morning
and go to the
guillotine. Just
warning you. Sorry.)

#3
And finally, the words
I long to hear spoken to him,

given his predilection:
You feel me, Cuz?

You
feel
me?

Yes, I feel you, Cuz,
she'll say. I feel you

loud
and
clear.

18.04.2009 • Permalink

Why Art Students Rise Later Than Log Truck Drivers

In the studio, after-dusk dark,
Sharp X-actos gleam
And the immense paper stack
Beckons and invites
Down the worn concrete stairs
To the insomnia of the PC Lab.
Five floors of acrid air.

There is no other life.

This first saw the light of day back in 2002. Thanks to Gary Snyder, obviously.
01.02.2009 • Permalink

I-95

not the America
the movies
made me love;

not the road
Kerouac
made me long for;

just the road home;

undisturbed
by myth
and wild angels

09.10.2008 • Permalink