“Nature” is what we see–
The Hill–the Afternoon–
Squirrel–Eclipse–the Bumble bee–
Nay–Nature is Heaven–
Nature is what we hear–
The Bobolink–the Sea–
Thunder–the Cricket–
Nay–Nature is Harmony–
Nature is what we know–
Yet have no art to say–
So impotent Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.
poetry
The Surrogate by Paul Blackburn
She stole ma hat
. . .ma hat . was in the lounge with ma jacket
The jacket she dint take it, but
. . . . . . . ma hat, she tukkit, clean
. . . . . . . outa the place . she liked
ma hat . & went with it to the room & danced
. . .. .DANCED with it, wearing the hat she
. . . . . . . . . . . . DANCED!
Wearin the hat, she
danced, and dint expect I’d cum back ferit . ah did.
. . . . .Pretended I hadn’t figured it out
. . . . .talkin with her friend . I’d figured
. . . . . . . .she laiked ma hat.
The next mornin, nobuddy up, both of em sleepin late.
. . . . . . . . .”Come in”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . /
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .I did, & there it wass,
my hat
on the bed, she’d bigod
. . . . . . . . . . . slept with me hat!
Go by Robert Creeley
Push that little
thing up and the
other right down.
It’ll work.
Insomnia by Elizabeth Bishop
The moon in the bureau mirror
looks out a million miles
(and perhaps with pride, at herself,
but she never, never smiles)
far and away beyond sleep, or
perhaps she’s a daytime sleeper.
By the Universe deserted,
she’d tell it to go to hell,
and she’d find a body of water,
or a mirror, on which to dwell.
So wrap up care in a cobweb
and drop it down the well
into that world inverted
where left is always right,
where the shadows are really the body,
where we stay awake all night,
where the heavens are shallow as the sea
is now deep, and you love me.
In the Middle of the Road by Carlos Drummond de Andrade
In the middle of the road there was a stone
there as a stone in the middle of the road
there was a stone
in the middle of the road there was a stone.
Never should I forget this event
in the life of my fatigued retinas.
Never should I forget that in the middle of the road
there was a stone
there was a stone in the middle of the road
in the middle of the road there was a stone.
translated by Elizabeth Bishop
untitled Chinese poem 3 by anonymous
In the courtyard is a marvelous tree
its green leaves spreading a profusion of flowers
I bend a branch and gather blossoms
to send to the one I love
sweet smells fill my lapels and sleeves
but the road is long and nothing can reach you
these things have no value as precious gifts
they only remind me how long you’ve been away
translated by Charles Hartman
one last Valentine Day’s post: an old favorite of mine: a tanka by Akahito
I wish I were close
To you as the wet skirt of
A salt girl to her body.
I think of you always.
Suma no ama no
Shio yaki ginu no
Narenaba ka
Hito hi mo kimi wo
Wasurete omowamu
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Symptoms Of Love by Robert Graves
Love is a universal migraine,
A bright stain on the vision
Blotting out reason.
Symptoms of true love
Are leanness, jealousy,
Laggard dawns;
Are omens and nightmares–
Listening for a knock,
Waiting for a sign:
For a touch of her fingers
In a darkened room,
For a searching look.
Take courage, lover!
Can you endure such grief
At any hand but hers?
for Valentine’s Day from Hafiz
Oh my dear, how can I speak of being apart from you?
The eyes know a hundred tears, and the soul has a hundred sighs.
I’d not have an infidel suffer the torment your beauty has caused
To the cypress which envies your body, and the moon that’s outshone by your face.
translated by Peter Avery & John Heath-Stubbs
Invitation Standing by Paul Blackburn
BRING a leaf to me
just a leaf just a
spring leaf, an
april leaf
just
come
Blue sky
never mind
Spring rain
never mind
Reach up and
take a leaf and
come
just come
Leonard Durso 