December 2009
16 posts
my kitten waits patiently for kisses. i want pearls and planets.
i am a silver spoon shining like a tarnished little poem in your pocket.
4 tags
i would drive through the snow three-hundred more times to hear the softness of your breath asleep in the passenger seat. the snow keeps falling in the headlights.
i can’t hear myself over the dripping of pipes and the creaking of walls.
you are a stasis, sleepy long bones and whiskey lips.
1 tag
A Poem by Marilyn Monroe
Life- I am of both your directions Existing more with the cold frost Strong as a cobweb in the wind Hanging downward the most Somehow remaining those beaded rays have the colours I’ve seen in paintings-ah life they have cheated you
thinner than a cobweb’s thread sheerer than any-
but it did attach itself and held fast in strong winds and singed by the...
I need the silence of museums and old libraries, the shuffle of coats and the quiet of pages.
Too tired of grey sun through the crooked ribs of white blinds
Wears me down like little lights and the sadness of shopping malls.
it's true.
i wake up alone with the hunger of winter.
3 tags
Vigilance Andre Breton In Paris, the Tour Saint-Jacques Swaying like a sunflower sometimes against the Seine its shadow moves among the tugboats Just then on tiptoe in my sleep I go toward the room where I am lying And set it afire Nothing remains of the consent I had to give The furniture then makes way for the beasts looking at me like brothers Lions whose manes consume the chairs Sharks’...
i still have dreams where you walk out of the Siena sunlight, peeling apart purple and yellow. you still have that stupidcute hair and those arms.
i still have dreams where you look at me where you say my name. your eyes never look right.
The Last Believer In Words
Say More, Speak Like Rain Arne Ruste published in Poetry East translated from the Norwegian by Olav Grinde Am I perhaps
the only believer now?
I believe in words I believe in the carrying capacity
of words in the power of their
relativity I believe in
the parable, the paradox, the poem
and in the stories of old men
told over fences, and I
believe in the soft things of this world, in...