Poetry

Reading: Carson McCullers by Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski (1920-1994) was a legendary American poet, and writer of novels and short stories. I read a summer poem presented to me on a poetry website: Carson McCullers she died of alcoholism wrapped in a blanket on a deck chair on an ocean steamer. all her books of terrified loneliness all her books about the ...
Reading: Commotion and storm by Marc Tiefenthal
Marc Tiefenthal (b. ?) is a Belgian, writer, translator and poet. I read an existential poem: Commotion and storm The sky as the top solution you must do so, yes, or hell as a last refuge. No, we did not invent this by the way nor shall it disappear by the same way. Otherwise, the ...
The Pleasures of an Ordinary Life by Judith Viorst
Judith Viorst (b. 1931) is among other things an American writer and psychoanalysis researcher. She is known for her children's books and witty poetry. I read a sober summary of the pleasures of an ordinary life: I've had my share of necessary losses, Of dreams I know no longer can come true. I'm done now ...
Reading: Fatherland by Mansur Rajih
Mansur Rajih (b. 1958) is a Norwegian poet and human rights activist with Yemeni roots. I found this translation of one of his poems online: Fatherland Do not despair, my friend: The light that shines on our land will remain chaste. We still have time. Maybe next year, the year after- it will be enough. ...
Reading: Blackberry Picking by Seamus Heaney
Seamus Heaney (1939-2013) was a giant of Northern Irish poetry. He translated Beowulf into lively,  modern language. Heaney was an immensely popular ambassador of poetry. I have read a poem about strange fruits by Heaney before, and today I read again a detailed fruity allegory of our life: Blackberry Picking Late August, given heavy rain and sun ...
Music
I am sitting in a convenient store my coffee is getting cold the word triumvirate pops up it's a word that doesn't belong here yet, it snaps into its place: what is real is what is the case suddenly, I wanna be crazy old the laughing belly of our truth and I wanna be profoundly ...
When I shine my walking boots
When I shine my walking boots everything is underway I remember the dusty sand trail that I didn't walk for long, but they were so present, like the big rocks lining the path leading to the limestone hill One proved enough, a rock the size of a tree trunk, to sit me down. My boots ...
Online Poem Generator
As someone who loves the belief that poetry is a form of communication, I am inclined to see its authenticity threatened by the emergence of automated poem generators. I am aware that strong AI will be among us within a few decades from now, if we believe the predictions of researchers in the field, but ...
Message in a Bottle
I want to say love before death words but they only dig at night they dig in the clouds a Ceylon pigeon shat on the Spanish stairs (but they vacuum the moon) I mean the message never arrives