All about: life

On my way home
I walk rather straight to the subway station an old hooker says fuck fuck fuck let's go fuck it is the umpteenth century there are those days that I just want to lie in the grass there are those that I want to answer my call unambiguous days, blushing in abundant sunlight days I talk ...
Reading: The Feast by Galway Kinnell
Galway Kinnell (1927-2004) was an engaged, versitale and prolific American poet who won many awards (Pulitzer, National Book Award. I read a classing sounding poem, called the Feast: The Feast Juniper and cedar in the sand. The lake beyond, here deer-meat smoking On a driftwood fire. And we two Reaching each other by the wash ...
Reading: Lives by Derek Mahon
We travel to Northern Ireland. Derek Mahan (b. 1941)'s poetry has been compared to Louis MacNeice and W.D. Auden. Some critics have called it 'too controlled'. I found this poem worth reading, with an attribution to yet another famous Irish poet: Lives (for Seamus Heaney) First time out I was a torc of gold And ...
To my child
today I stage a rebirth of my desire to see the world through your eyes if you see the flowers stare at you from their blushing fields you are like a sun to them so I invited myself to your dream and do you know mine about the thankfulness of a well, the divine right ...
Life - the way it really is - is a battle not between Bad and Good but between Bad and Worse. - Joseph Brodsky
Reading: A Life by Edith Södergran
Edith Södergran (1892-1923) published 5 collections of poetry. She was one of the first modernists of Swedish-language literature. Browsing her poetry, I liked this one, called 'A life'. I read an English translation by Averill Curdy that goes as follows: A life That the stars are adamant everyone understands— but I won’t give up seeking joy ...
On people who live on in our dreams
I dreamt that the late British American public intellectual Christopher Hitchens was walking next to me. He was bald, like in the last months of his life when he underwent chemotherapy, but appeared in excellent health and was obviously not aware of his impending death. The image was so vivid that I could see the ...
Incitement
I hear the frequency of my kitchen the deafening sound of appliances that killed the wind, the quiet murmur of the grass and the cicadas and the death throes of little animals I try to remember the smell of the earth her dirt, her ashes, her streams, her stones her forests, her oceans, the long ...
Underground blues
I sing of happiness in little things a daughter who puts lipstick on my face the smile of a stranger when she sees my hat the dream of reading a poem to you one day the quiet jazz music they play in my café the traces of other minds on my computer screen the taste ...