A poem by Adrienne Cecile Rich (1929 – 2012)
Something spreading underground won’t speak to us
under skin won’t declare itself
not all life-forms want dialogue with the
machine-gods in their drama hogging down
the deep bush clear-cutting refugees
from ancient or transient villages into
our opportunistic fervor to search
crazily for a host a lifeboat
Suddenly instead of art we’re eyeing
organisms traced and stained on cathedral transparencies
cruel blues embroidered purples succinct yellows
a beautiful tumor
•
I guess you’re not alone I fear you’re alone
There’s, of course, poetry:
awful bridge rising over naked air: I first
took it as just a continuation of the road:
“a masterpiece of engineering
praised, etc.” then on the radio:
“incline too steep for ease of, etc.”
Drove it nonetheless because I had to
this being how— So this is how
I find you: alive and more
•
As if (how many conditionals must we suffer?)
I’m driving to your side
—an intimate collusion—
packed in the trunk my bag of foils for fencing with pain
glasses of varying spectrum for sun or fog or sun-struck
rain or bitterest night my sack of hidden
poetries, old glue shredding from their spines
my time exposure of the Leonids
over Joshua Tree
As if we’re going to win this O because
•
If you have a sister I am not she
nor your mother nor you my daughter
nor are we lovers or any kind of couple
except in the intensive care
of poetry and
death’s master plan architecture-in-progress
draft elevations of a black-and-white mosaic dome
the master left on your doorstep
with a white card in black calligraphy:
Make what you will of this
As if leaving purple roses
•
If (how many conditionals must we suffer?)
I tell you a letter from the master
is lying on my own doorstep
glued there with leaves and rain
and I haven’t bent to it yet
if I tell you I surmise
he writes differently to me:
Do as you will, you have had your life
many have not
signing it in his olden script:
Meister aus Deutschland
•
In coldest Europe end of that war
frozen domes iron railings frozen stoves lit in the
streets
memory banks of cold
the Nike of Samothrace
on a staircase wings in blazing
backdraft said to me
: : to everyone she met
Displaced, amputated never discount me
Victory
indented in disaster striding
at the head of stairs
for Tory Dent
A few random poems:
- How Solemn as One by One. by Walt Whitman
- Robert Burns: The Trogger.: Heron Election Ballad, No. IV.
- October by Robert Frost
- Anniversaries
- A Tale of Starvation poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Players Ask For A Blessing On The Psalteries And On Themselves by William Butler Yeats
- The Arrivals by Sharon Olds
- Вера Павлова – Праздник после праздника
- The Carter by William Barnes
- The Titanic poem – Aleister Crowley poems | Poetry Monster
- Владимир Степанов – Хрюшка
- Алексей Плещеев – Как солнце блещет ярко
- Kindness by Sylvia Plath
- In the Night poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- Behold, As Goblins Dark Of Mien by Robert Louis Stevenson
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
- Sonnet 133: Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 132: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 131: Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 130: My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 12: When I do count the clock that tells the time by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 129: Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame by William Shakespeare
- The Eolian Harp by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
- Sonnet 32: If thou survive my well-contented day by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 31: Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 30: When to the sessions of sweet silent thought by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 2: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 29: When in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 28: How can I then return in happy plight by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 27: Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 26: Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 25: Let those who are in favour with their stars by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 24: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 23: As an unperfect actor on the stage by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 22: My glass shall not persuade me I am old by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 21: So is it not with me as with that muse by William Shakespeare
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
Adrienne Cecile Rich (1929 – 2012) was an American poet, essayist, and feminist.