You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Kenneth Rexroth’ tag.

Why can’t I read

novels

prose

as I once did

Devouring stories

lives

characters

immersion

I open a book

and close it

then another

and close it

within minutes

 

Is it the fault of poets

such as Clive James

Where every word counts

causing

prose

novels

to fall flat?

 

Or Samuel Wagan Watson

Ali Cobby Eckermann

Eleanor Lerman

Kenneth Rexroth

Other poets

names forgotten

sitting on the shelf

to be read and reread

 

Emotions linger

Specific poems

unremembered

Poets’ words

pierce

shine

penetrate

Leaving novels flat

colourless

Spoiled by chance

or choice

 

Now and then

poetry escapes me

the terms foreign

the language English

the context unknown

unwanted

unseen

 

A sometimes thing

poetry’s direct hit

reaching the heart

Pelicans Tucacas Venezuela

 

 

 

 

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Bike riding at night

from the cinema

through the summer

warmth radiating

from the road

from the ground

Bringing smells

latent in the day

powerful in the night

Smells of

grass growing

leaves decaying

night jasmine

Remembering

the joy

the peace

the security

of night riding

while a child

 

My bike

My bike

I stand watch

in Australia

waiting for a reply

from Nairobi

Relaxed and tense

all at once

Tense from the

pain of empathy

watching a film

about Alan Turing

The murder of a great mind

Murdered for being different

Murdered despite ending a war

Murdered despite saving millions of lives

Different in his thinking

his communication

and his sexuality

 

I stand watch

Drinking wine

Reading Poems from the Chinese

Love and the Turning Year

Greedily drinking down the wine

and the poems

Inebriated by the emotions

the images

the poetry

More than the wine

I stand watch

Poems from the Chinese

Poems from the Chinese

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