poems for people i will never meet, part thirteen
perfection.
(Source: topographe)
It seems
our own impermanence is concealed from us.
The trees stand firm, the houses we live in
are still there. We alone
flow past it all, an exchange of air.
Everything conspires to silence us,
partly with shame,
partly with unspeakable hope.
Without warning
as a whirlwind
swoops on an oak
Love shakes my heart- Sappho
We’re athirst beasts
alone at night
between feared lines
We only struggle for desire
to feel our will alive
We await in the dark
until as poet
we arise
Human Things
When the sun gets low, in winter,
The lapstreaked side of a red barn
Can put so flat a stop to its light
You’d think everything was finished.Each dent, fray, scratch, or splinter,
Any gray weathering where the paint
Has scaled off, is a healed scar
Grown harder with the wounds of light.Only a tree’s trembling shadow
Crosses that ruined composure; even
Nail holes look deep enough to swallow
Whatever light has left to give.And after sundown, when the wall
Slowly surrenders its color, the rest
Remains, its high, obstinate
Hulk more shadowy than the night.—Howard Nemerov, from The Next Room of the Dream (University of Chicago Press, 1962)
Remain Unknown
Love whose name remain unknown
leading my dreams upon my words
until the day we won’t rest alone.
“For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),
It’s always our self we find in the sea.”— E.E. Cummings
moon&moon: Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and...
Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on…
(Source: honeychurch)
Tom Waits reads Charles Bukowski’s “The Laughing Heart”
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.
