I watched this beautiful TED talk about trusting people and the perfect rightness of the balance between giving and receiving. Sunday is a good day for new thoughts.
Poet & reader living in the newer England.
On his back the sorrows of a new age.
Learning to trust people
Post as Poetry
I’m still thinking about the city and segregation and what it means to belong. My father’s family often regarded my mother with suspicion. He was from the South Side; my mother was from the West. They were both born in the South, in Alabama and Mississippi, but neighborhoods and cities have a way…
The Paris Review on the Poetry of Neil Young
Highlights: “Cover me with the thought/ that pulled the trigger” & a line from Joy Williams, “the children had told her once that the sun was called the sun because the real word for it was too terrible.”
Matthew Dickman Reading Poem at Powell’s October 1, 2012
(Source: youtube.com)
grupaok: Lee Lozano, Statement for an Open Public Hearing, Art Workers’ Coalition, 1969
Jennifer Militello, "Interview Under Hypnosis"
Describe what you would have seen had the roosters
woken you closer to dawn.
Late August already. The jagged at their sins.
God crouching at the labor of us, us crouching
at the labor of ourselves, with iron rods sewn
inside our clothes to keep our glass bodies
from breaking. Listening shivers at
the nerve endings. Things unfailingly cringe.
Describe being endangered.
I hear reasons not to cry but I am crying to feel
the cold come in like an illness that will recover me.
A bruise finds me, a bruise knows where I sleep:
the pear’s sickly skin the color of a throat,
ravines that sing where ravines never were,
the sky in igneous ropes.
Describe being unreal.
When I finally woke, what was the world
but sleep. Graveyards where the wind is why,
wild as cursive and motorcycle-stark and white
as a gown of waiting. I am melting toward a world,
the small belly, into vivid such-liquids and
a disguise of lavishes. October lacerations.
The neon nears. No one tells me what
to believe and for once I believe in nothing.
wowgreat: RONALD DE BLOEME Kurzstrecke 5, 2010 Acrylic, Tape on Paper, 100 x 70 cm (via Lost & Found)
2012 BR Poetry Contest Winner
So what sort of chime or present
does it take to understand that others
can hear you speak? That you are a person capable
of making sounds with meaning.
hockey-teeth: Chris Savage
Feels strangely resonant in Boston on a foggy morning.
(via youngfolksociety)
Jorie Graham takes 2012 Forward prize
Judge Leonie Rushforth described Graham’s Place, as a ”challenging collection of unusual force and originality, forging connections between inner experience and a world in crisis.”
