Among the rain
and lights
I saw the figure 5
in gold
on a red
firetruck
moving
tense
unheeded
to gong clangs
siren howls
and wheels rumbling
through the dark city.
20th Century American poetry
The Thinker by William Carlos Williams
My wife’s new pink slippers
have gay pompons.
There is not a spot or a stain
on their satin toes or their sides.
All night they lie together
under her bed’s edge.
Shivering I catch sight of them
and smile, in the morning.
Later I watch them
descending the stair,
hurrying through the doors
and round the table,
moving stiffly
with a shake of their gay pompons!
And I talk to them
in my secret mind
out of pure happiness.
Full Moon by William Carlos Williams
Blessed moon
noon
of night
that through the dark
bids Love
stay—
curious shapes
awake
to plague me
Is day near
shining girl?
Yes, day!
the warm
the radiant
all fulfilling
day
Earth and Fire by Wendell Berry
In this woman the earth speaks.
Her words open in me, cells of light
flashing in my body, and make a song
that I follow toward her out of my need.
The pain I have given her I wear
like another skin, tender, the air
around me flashing with thorns.
And yet such joy as I have given her
sings in me and is part of her song.
The winds of her knees shake me
like a flame. I have risen from her,
time and again, a new man.
Weekend Bathers by Kenneth Patchen
Sun on their naked shoulders
Like a sparkling hand;
Marge and her big-legged sweetie
Laughing to beat the band—
O glory in the Garden!
He finds her halter straps
And such pretties are exposed;
Yet, Wonder—now what is that?
Perhaps the water knows.
Thunder rides with the gnat.
Ah, each day a weaker bridge is crossed,
And nearer rush the wings;
Too soon all youthful swagger’s lost
In the dark hurry of things.
Since the Tiny Yellow Rose by Kenneth Patchen
Since the tiny yellow rose
In the vase beside the candles
And the single drop of water
Upon this leafs uppermost tip
—Proof of mystery? or just
Two meaningless occurrences from
A meaningless physical world?
And your lovely fingers lifting a cup,
Or smoothing a crease in the table cloth
—To me so beautiful that my heart cries
With joy and pride at their nearness
What There Is by Kenneth Patchen
In this my green world
Flowers birds are hands
They hold me
I am loved all day
All this pleases me
I am amused
I have to laugh from crying
Trees mountains are arms
I am loved all day
Children grass are tears
I cry
I am loved all day
Everything
Pompous makes me laugh
I am amused often enough
In this
My beautiful green world
O there’s love all day
This Couldn’t Happen Again by Paul Blackburn
the heavy pressure
of the presence of your body in the room
moving
O love,
is the end of my
imaginings
this late afternoon
feeling again at this window
the sensation of weight received
in that displacement
the small waves
lapping against me
constantly
Dear Joanne by Lew Welch
Dear Joanne,
Last night Magda dreamed that she,
you, Jack, and I were driving around
Italy.
We parked in Florence and left
our dog to guard the car.
She was worried because he
doesn’t understand Italian.
from Echoes by Robert Creeley
Body sits single,
waiting–
but for what
it knows not.
Old words
echoing what
the physical
can’t–
“Leave love,
leave day,
come
with me.”
Leonard Durso 