Because life’s too short to blush,
I keep my blood tucked in.
I won’t be mortified
by what I drive or the flaccid
vivacity of my last dinner party.
I take my cue from statues posing only
in their shoulder pads of snow: all January
you can see them working on their granite tans.
That I woke at an ungainly hour,
stripped of the merchandise that clothed me,
distilled to pure suchness,
means not enough to anyone for me
to confess. I do not suffer
from the excess of taste
that spells embarrassment:
mothers who find their kids unseemly
in their condom earrings,
girls cringing to think
they could be frumpish as their mothers.
Though the late nonerotic Elvis
in his studded gut of jumpsuit
made everybody squeamish, I admit.
Rule one: the King must not elicit pity.
Was the audience afraid of being tainted
–this might rub off on me–
or were they–surrendering–
what a femme word–feeling
solicitous–glimpsing their fragility
in his reversible purples
and unwholesome goldish chains?
At least embarrassment is not an imitation.
It’s intimacy for beginners,
the orgasm no one cares to fake.
I almost admire it. I almost wrote despise.
Copyright ©:
Alice Fulton
A few random poems:
- Beauty Undecked by William Barnes
- To the Lady Margaret Ley poem – John Milton poems
- Robert Burns: Robin Shure In Hairst:
- Олег Бундур – Обновки
- Омар Хайям – Кто мне скажет что завтра случится со мной
- Icicles round a Tree in Dumfriesshire by Ruth Padel
- Beauty
- Dream Girl by Rabindranath Tagore
- Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B.
- Oh Masters
- Insomniac by Sylvia Plath
- Dark House by Sylvia Plath
- To Seem The Stranger Lies My Lot, My Life poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- women picking edible plants by Raj Arumugan
- Cauls of Haw by Roland Bastien
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- No, Love Is Not Dead by Robert Desnos
- Lying Down by Robert Desnos
- Long Long Ago by Robert Desnos
- If You Only Knew by Robert Desnos
- Identity of Images by Robert Desnos
- Fairy Tale by Robert Desnos
- Zero by Robert Creeley
- Water Music by Robert Creeley
- The Way by Robert Creeley
- The Warning by Robert Creeley
- The Rain by Robert Creeley
- The Mirror by Robert Creeley
- The Innocence by Robert Creeley
- The Conspiracy by Robert Creeley
- The Carnival by Robert Creeley
- Song by Robert Creeley
- Something by Robert Creeley
- Other by Robert Creeley
- Myself by Robert Creeley
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
