"His watchword was to be open"
daydreaming w/ Bob Arnold
Fear of the Future
In the end one simply withdraws
From others and time, one's own time,
Becoming an imaginary Everyman
Inhabiting a few rooms, personifying
The urge to tend one's garden,
A character of no strong attachments
Who made nothing happen, and to whom
Nothing ever actually happened — a fictitious
Man whose life was over from the start,
Like a diary or a daybook whose poems
And stories told the same story over
And over again, or no story. The pictures
And paintings hang crooked on the walls,
The limbs beneath the sheets are frail and cold
And morning is an exercise in memory
Of a long failure, and of the years
Mirrored in the face of the immaculate
Child who can't believe he's old.
___________________
John Koethe
Walking Backwards
poems 1966-2016
Farrar, Straus and Giroux
A long time ago but still present
Allen Ginsberg read his poem of Wales to William F. Buckley
and opposing but charmed host
The Stone Garden Poems expand upon an earlier book called, simply, Stone Garden. Both are poems based upon photographs of The Temple of Tolerance assembled by Jim Bowsher in Wapakoneta, Ohio, an art work that rivals the Simon Rodia Towers of Los Angeles.
BullHead Books
2023
C H A R L E S V. H A M I L T O N
In their 1967 book, “Black Power,” Dr. Hamilton and Stokely Carmichael concluded that racism was embedded in the nation’s institutions.Credit...Vintage
W i t n e s s
Alexei Anatolyevich Navalny (Russian: Алексей Анатольевич Навальный, IPA: [ɐlʲɪkˈsʲej ɐnɐˈtolʲjɪvʲɪtɕnɐˈvalʲnɨj]; 4 June 1976 – 16 February 2024)
photo: New York Times
3 volumes, 1500 pages, Interviews, Family, Friends, Musicians, Poets, Photographs, Amen
Simon & Schuster
Fall Down
In memory of Eric Dolphy
All men are locked in their cells.
Though we quake
In fist of body
Keys rattle, set us free.
I remember and wonder why?
In fall, in summer; times
Will be no more. Journeys
End.
I remember and wonder why?
In the sacred labor of lung
Spine and groin,
You cease, fly away
To what? To Autumn, to
Winter, to brown leaves, to
Wind where no lark sings; yet
Through dominion of air, jaw and fire
I remember!
Eric Dolphy, you swung
A beautiful axe. You lived a clean
Life.
You were young —
You died.
D Blues
D blues
What you woke up wit
Dhis mourning
What you toss and turn
All night in your bed wit
Nothing, no
One in your arms
No
Body.
Dats
What D blues
Is.
___________________
Calvin C. Hernton
Selected Poems of Calvin C. Hernton
Wesleyan, 2023
from How To Wash A Heart
I was born feet-first beneath a Lebanon cedar
At 10:23 a.m.
On a November morning
So long ago
That many people who were alive that day,
Flinching from a sudden rain,
No longer walk upon this earth.
I am going to take you by surprise.
I am going to make you
So proud of me.
When you watch my plays, your heart
Will make a circuit with the dense shadow
In the upper part of the atmosphere.
The clouds
Will rain green frogs
The size of fingernails
And we will scoop them up
With our hands.
Sometimes I lie on the earth face down
To connect
With its copper plate.
You won't have to love me
For very long.
_____________________
Bhanu Kapil
How To Wash A Heart
Liverpool University Press, 2023
hill wife
beside the grave
the ties gave
was she there
everywhere
in the fern
or return
when he called her
of black alder
on her lips
the fresh chips
or felled tree
she was free
and no child
and too wild
_______________
Jody Gladding
Translations from Bark Beetle
Milkweed Editions, 2014