Monday, June 8, 2015

RENE CHAR ~




"Imagination, my child."






 "Children perform the delightful
miracle of remaining children
while seeing the world through
our eyes."





"In the darkness of our lives,
there is not one place for Beauty.
The whole place is for Beauty."



HYPNOS
CHAR
SEAGULL BOOKS
2015








Sunday, June 7, 2015

GARY SNYDER & the BICYCLISTS ~



We've been having many bicyclists going by today, in fact it's a bike tour, it happens now and then.
At 930AM when I was out pruning the lilac trees I overheard this conversation occur by one bicyclist
with his small band of 4 or 5 as they passed by our house. "Yeah, well I woke up early this morning, got my bike. . . OH Nice! A Gary Snyder Quote. . . on the car. . ." and they were gone.





Back Road Chalkie
Gary Snyder
as told to
Stewart Brand


Friday, June 5, 2015

LOSS ~








Loss


 


Put no trust in nothing, not even yourself

Yesterday was like summer, today snow blows


I’ve walked six miles with an axe and wedge


Actually make my living near a river that runs bright water


Home to a small hawk found mangled in the woodshed


Eyes opening, I load my rifle but won’t use it


Instead talk with the closest thing to me right now


Heavy gloves moving back short feathers


The break in its neck, claws no use, eyes closing





________________________

© Bob Arnold


from  DUO
Longhouse 2015



Monday, June 1, 2015

VICENTE ALEIXANDRE ~








Love's Cutting Edge



When I look at you, mountain or tiny rose,

when I hold you, blue mountain pressed to my heart,

butterfly that comes as lightly as love,

like two royal lips spread out on the sky.



When I look at your soft form stretched out,

your faithful dream where even the smiles are true,

body that seems to me a heap of ripened wheat,

golden harvest that sleeps on the ground like happiness. . .



I see your young face smiling without fear

while thin clouds pass before it,

and your skin feels the high-flying birds

like feathers that brush you gently and smile.



Yes. Lying down you never imitate a held back river,

nor a lake with the sky finally resting in its depths.

Nor are you a sweet hill that comes to life

whenever the moon makes the earth's softness shine.



Your arm that lies resting on the grass

could be, yes, it could be something warm, inviting,

a sweet light that blends with moons

or cool stars as the night comes on.



Who are you calling?

The earth turning like a slow head

leaves its wake or long, silver hair,

leaves a murmur  of voices or beloved words

that the stars hear, like a water flowing out.



All of your crystal, or love,

all the mystery that rolls on unaware of you,

all the joy that comes is speaking gently in your ear

while your mouth surrenders like a half-open sea.



Tell me: Who kisses like the stars?

Who feels a steely moon at the back of the neck?

Who understands that light is a shiny blade

that slices in two whenever earthly lovers kiss?


________________________


VICENTE ALEIXANDRE
World Alone
(Mundo A Solas)
translated by Lewis Hyde and David Unger
Penmaen Press 1982


( The Birdhouse dedicates this poem
to Lisa & J.D. and the month of June )







Sunday, May 31, 2015

ANNE SPENCER ~






Sacred Spaces:
The House of Anne Spencer

photographs by John M Hall
Introduction by Jeffery Beam



Saturday, May 30, 2015

JOHN EDGAR WIDEMAN ~





John Edgar Wideman
Harper's Magazine
June 2015

 



Friday, May 29, 2015

MY BLACK ANGEL ~









My Black Angel
Kim Addonizio
Charles D. Jones
Stephen Austin State University Press




Thursday, May 28, 2015

HUMMINGBIRD ~










Hummingbird


_______________________

 


Rarely pausing

Though I have seen


It stop the flutter


Of its amazing


Wings and perch


Nearly invisible


On a wire against


The evening sky —


And be sighted —


And being very


Still, be thought


Of as not there




© Bob Arnold

from DUO
Longhouse 2015 







Wednesday, May 27, 2015

DUO by BOB ARNOLD ~







DUO

 The Collected Bird Poems
1974-2014
 by BOB ARNOLD


New and available now from Longhouse ~

92 pages

 Perfect bound softcover

____________________________________

$15
Shipping $3.95 ~ U.S. orders with Paypal



"Tis another wonderful little book from Bob Arnold at Longhouse.  The title is perfect in its reflection of the Bob-Bird relationship, which is the book.  I love the range of the poems, from tight & haiku-like to a little more easy & conversational, from spiritual/mystic to down-to-earth (or "up-to-air") rootedly realistic.  "Complete" would make a beautiful broadside to be hung on every wall.  SO many to like.  Another is "Duo" itself.  And "Birds," the kind humor.  And "Nest."  It's hard to extract & list the poems I most like.  For a complete account, see the 'Table of Contents.'"


— J.D. Whitney



Buy now through easy-to-use Paypal, US Orders, $18.95







International orders ~ complete $30.00 with Paypal payment







all orders may be made by Paypal or check
mail order here:


LONGHOUSE

 PO Box 2454
 West Brattleboro, Vermont 05303



Monday, May 25, 2015

KEN WARREN ~




Kenneth  Warren
1952 ~ 2015




I just received this news about Kenneth Warren, whom I never had met, but we long ago shared a front cover photograph display and interior article in Poets & Writers on the highs & lows of being small press publishers. From that date forward we were forever in fair exchange mode. No one ever had to remind the other. We always came through and what I sent to Ken from Longhouse pressings, he sent in turn back to me from House Organ, and the poetry wheel revolved. Yes, forever the twain was met. Not as easy as you might think, and eternally thankful.

[ BA ]






WHAT BOOK WILL NEVER BE REACHED FOR?
                           for Kenneth Warren (1952-2015)                         


from the shelf  tumbles dust

dry words, unread pages

there is heaven and earth

Ontario become a dark ship in a lake of gods

your soul was as constant as the driven wind

deep soul, beautiful lake, beautiful water

it is a taking away, taken from us


the subject of poetry as you know too well

a cloudburst unleashed

the evening cry of gulls

sunset below the pattern of storm

driven like sleep finally come

aftermath of black waves

growing wave crests orange


almost all the beats would be fine

in rhythm, but then there would be

a pause, a skip

I’d glance at you, eye to eye

and see the terrible aloneness

what bright color might next catch our interest?

bury that thought  as they now bury you


the rabbit in the moon

was placed there

as tribute for rabbit’s sacrifice

of his life and substance

for the saving of others

                                         Alan Casline       
                                         May 25, 2015
                                         Elsmere, New York




——————————


"Just came to my e-mail to hear of the death of Ken Warren. Ken was one of my best and bountiful friends. So many times our paths crossed and we got to do a few things together. I was so looking forward to House Organ  #100. I could always push on Ken and he would always carefully push back. Loved the guy and the world a dimmer place. Still a bit shocked."

[ AC ]

  I haven't asked Alan to share his poem, words, photograph, but something tells me
he doesn't mind.





ALVARO CARDONA-HINE ~





Alvaro Cardona-Hine & Barbara McCauley 

photograph by Jeane George Weigel




Childhood



the cows walk ahead of me

down a road milky

with low-lying fog



from time to time

I hear voices

above the steady pounding

of the river

then I realize

it's the song

I had thought of singing



a butterfly with two

suitcases of color

on its shoulders

bumps into me







A Witness



I come from the arms of my mother

glad to live alone

with you and you and you



everywhere I look

an odor of light

bears down hard

upon the earth



the wind from the ocean

suddenly finds itself

among the barley







Three Rivers Tie A Knot In My
Handkerchief



now the sun is on the hill

caressing the backs of the eucalypti



from my room I can hear

the cicadas above their patron saints

woodpeckers up the mountain



I laugh a little under my breath

I have fooled the priest

who expected me at confession



my growth depends exclusively

on the broth

simmering in the kitchen







New Explanation



staring at a bird in the darkness

becomes evening     evening

stresses its song     a song



how light

after being stolen

is spent on useless roads

how the wind leans on blunt instruments



large fields are often small







Passage

for Barbara



what I wanted to tell you is on the tip of my tongue

the wind will find it in your ear



it is a day of rain and sun

some patches of snow hold out under the silent pines

flower after flower blooms directly across our path




Alvaro Cardona-Hine
Lhude Sing Cuccu
Alba Books Press 2015