Thursday, March 23, 2023
Wednesday, March 22, 2023
Tuesday, March 21, 2023
Monday, March 20, 2023
Sunday, March 19, 2023
Saturday, March 18, 2023
WILL ALEXANDER ~
Ghostly Bonding by Kinetic
Since the living body persists
as strange accelerated crimson
what of its post-biology through ideas through ghostly bonding
with itself as kinetic?
does it persist within its after-state via chewn reindeer?
or does it unearth itself via post-mortem figment?
because kinetics reabsorb themselves
they remain trenchant
as certain owls
roaming the horizon as signs
___________________________
Will Alexander
Divine Blue Light
for John Coltrane
City Lights Books 2022
Friday, March 17, 2023
OLAV H. HAUGE ~
Mountains Don't Attract Me Anymore
The mountains don't attract me anymore.
I've lived long enough between cold snowfields.
I still find my way in the woods, listen
to fall wind, and stop at the forest ponds,
engage with streams. Even late in the year
you can find good berries there.
You have to cross mountains if that's not enough.
Peaks stand there, so you know where you are.
______________________
Olav H. Hauge
The Dream We Carry
translated by Robert Bly
Copper Canyon Press, 2008
Thursday, March 16, 2023
Wednesday, March 15, 2023
Tuesday, March 14, 2023
Monday, March 13, 2023
GERRY LOOSE / TWELVE AIRS ~
song of the thrush
sense of sound on air
knowledge of tree space in thrush-song
thrush weight on the branch
thrush weight on air sense
song weight on air space
nuthatch
qui-qui-qui who
slant-stone-on-ice song
going up coming down
upside song a ring
downside voice ceol
a-breath a-voice a-song a-ring
mistle thrush
a high clear closure
in throat tuc-tuc-tuc
of smeòrach a psalm
of stormcock a fluting
of wood/wind a lament
a sanctus in livid sky
___________________
from TWELVE AIRS
Gerry Loose
Dockyard Press/Glasgow
2023
Sunday, March 12, 2023
Saturday, March 11, 2023
Friday, March 10, 2023
Thursday, March 9, 2023
Wednesday, March 8, 2023
Tuesday, March 7, 2023
Monday, March 6, 2023
Sunday, March 5, 2023
Saturday, March 4, 2023
Friday, March 3, 2023
Thursday, March 2, 2023
MOSAB ABU TOHA ~
On A Starless Night
On a starless night,
I toss and turn.
The earth shakes, and
I fall out of bed.
I look out my window. The house
next door no longer
stands. It's lying like an old carpet
on the floor of the earth,
trampled by missiles, fat slippers
flying off legless feet.
I never knew my neighbors still had that small TV,
that the old painting still hung on their walls,
that their cat had kittens.
Palestinian Streets
My city's streets are nameless.
If a Palestinian gets killed by a sniper or a drone,
we name the street after them.
Children learn their numbers best
when they can count how many homes or schools
were destroyed, how many mothers and fathers
were wounded or thrown into jail.
Grownups in Palestine only use their IDs
so as not to forget
who they are.
Sobbing Without A Sound
I wish I could wake up and find the electricity on all day long.
I wish I could hear the birds sing again, no shooting and no
buzzing drones.
I wish my desk would call me to hold my pen and write again,
or at least plow through a novel, revisit a poem, or read a play.
All around me are nothing
but silent walls
and people sobbing
without sound.
Hard Exercise
In Gaza,
breathing is a task,
smiling is performing
plastic surgery
on one's own face,
and rising in the morning,
trying to survive
another day, is coming back
from the dead.
A Rose Shoulders Up
Don't ever be surprised
to see a rose shoulder up
among the ruins of the house:
This is how we survived.
_________________________
Mosab Abu Toha
Things You May Find Hidden In My Ear
Poems from Gaza
City Lights Books, 2022