Archive for the Poetry at large Category

Wiederkehr

Posted in Poetry at large with tags , , , , , , , on December 30, 2015 by Mj Rains

 

rain

Wiederkehr

He only wanted me for happiness,
to walk in air
and not think so much,
to watch the smile
begun in his eyes
end on the lips
his eyes caressed.

He merely hoped, in darkness, to smell
rain; and though he saw how still
I sat to hold the rain untouched
inside me, he never asked
if I would stay. Which is why,
when the choice appeared,
I reached for it.

~Rita Dove

Demeter, Waiting…

Posted in Poetry at large with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 28, 2015 by Mj Rains

IMG_2276

No. Who can bear it. Only someone
who hates herself, who believes
to pull a hand back from a daughter’s cheek
is to put love into her pocket–like one of those ashen Christian
philosophers, or a war-bound soldier.

winter

She is gone again and I will not bear
it, I will drag my grief through a winter
of my own making, refuse
any meadow that recycles itself into
hope. Shit on the cicadas, dry meteor
flash, finicky butterflies. I will wail and thrash
until the whole goddamned golden panorama freezes
over. Then I will sit down and wait for her. Yes.

~ Rita Dove, Demeter, Waiting

Images: Emilia Clarke, my edits
and Winter image via Pinterest

Lispy bails out…

Posted in Poetry at large with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 25, 2015 by Mj Rains

 

shaden photo

Here in the open cockpit
faceful of breeze
I sniff the winds of change.

Wooden wing struts and guy wires
lend a tentative support. You
look so brave out there, wind
whipped white frock and Florence
Nightingale cape.

Below, the dizzy patchwork map. I
can still hear your courageous last words,
a soft mixture of lisp and postnasal drip

as you step into the nearest available space,
a cloudbank of high hopes
one hand clutching your little nursebag
and the other the ripcord.

~ David Barker

image: Brooke Shaden

Departure…

Posted in Poetry at large with tags , , , , , , on November 23, 2015 by Mj Rains


Through the tres outside small

pieces of darkness fall like grace-

notes…

~from Departure by George Hitchcock

the old echoes again…

Posted in Poetry at large with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 11, 2015 by Mj Rains

gloomy day

Sad Walk

I’ve come to the old echoes again,
know it’s where I’ve been before,
see the same old sun.

But backwards, from all the yesterdays,
it’s still the same way,
who gets and who pays.

I was younger then,
walking along still open,
young and having fun.

But now it’s just a sad walk
to an empty park,
to sit down and wait, wait to get out.

~Robert Creeley~
from On Earth

image: gloomy day print by Kristie Bonnewell

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