Posts in "Poems" Category

Made-to-order

Cascading pain. The terrible is yet magnificent.
Can one being bear so much lost?
Maybe.
But, can she bear it if she is the one who has relinquished all?

I asked.
God granted to the detail; twin turtles lazing in the cascading fountain.
As always, he enters, devil disguised as helpmate.
The tub is teeny tiny. What about the money? Potential pool party hubbub.
The feeling just isn’t quite right.

As always, she folds. Drops her dream, made-to-order.

There was never any hope.

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Loneliness

Loneliness is like the rain.
It rises from the sea toward evening
and from distant plains moves into sky
where it ever belongs.
And from the sky it falls upon us in the city.

It rains here below in the twilight hours
when alleyways wind toward morning
and when lovers, finding nothing,
leave the failure of each other’s arms,
and when two who loathe each other
must share the same bed:

Then loneliness flows with the rivers….

~Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Images

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Musee des Beaux Arts

About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer’s horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.

In Breughel’s Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

~W. H. Auden

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Sing at Unnatural Hours in the Presence of Artificial Light

There are times I have to remind myself
that a bridge is a way to travel over water
not a diving board for suicides. That airports

aren’t just places for departures, but places
for arrivals, and hospitals aren’t only
where we go to die, but where we’re born.

I’d like to think not a single bomb
was dropped on anyone today, not a single
person was diagnosed with cancer.

Somewhere someone misses you.
A friend remembers something
you once said. Somewhere someone

thinks you’re beautiful. A man holds
a guitar in his hands. A couple dances behind
the living room couch mouthing words

they’ve longed to share with each other.
At this hour only astronomers
and insomniacs find natural,

as the blazing red lights of an ambulance
flicker fear past the window,
I have to remind myself:

it doesn’t always mean somebody’s
dying in there, sometimes it means
somebody’s being saved.

~Clint Margrave

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Anamnesis

The voice of the pheasant;
How I longed
For my dead parents!

~Bashō

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