April is national poetry month....
Apr. 27th, 2006 03:33 pmApril is national poetry month and I thought that I would acknowledge it with my crappy poetry.
Today I looked at the sun setting
And saw that a crayon box had exploded
Wax color dreams dribbled everywhere
And a pothole, broken crumbly, black
Had caught a bit of sky
Peering Peering Peering I saw my face
Pink-orange glowing
I thought I saw me smile
And wondered–does she wonder?
Sneaker-dash, gurgle splush, and bit of me
Everywhere, glittered, flew
I wondered if the girl in the puddle–
wondered if she wondered–what it felt like
to be a million water bright pieces
Against a crayon box sky?
But now I will share with you actually really really good poetry. I heard this poem first on NPR and liked it so much I bought the anthology it was in. The anthology is called "Poet's Choice" compiled by Edward Hirsch. The poem is by William Matthews and is located on page 308-309. Coincidentally, Bruce Wiegl, a very awesome professor to receive edumacation from, is mentioned in this book. Anyway here is the poem by William Matthews.
Grief
E detto l’ho doler ti debbia!
–Inferno XXIV, 151
Snow coming in parallel to the street,
a cab spinning its tires (a rising whine
like a domestic argument, and then
the words ger said that never get forgot),
slush and backed-up runoff waters at each
corner, clogged buses smelling of wet wool...
The acrid anger of the homeless swells
like wet rice. This slop is where I live, bitch,
a sogged panhandler shrieks to whom it may
concern. But none of us slows down for scorn,
there’s someone’s misery in all we earn.
But like a bur in a dog’s coat his rage
has borrowed legs. We bring it home. It lives
like kin among the angers of the house,
and leaves the same sharp zinc taste in the mouth:
And I have told you this to make you grieve
Today I looked at the sun setting
And saw that a crayon box had exploded
Wax color dreams dribbled everywhere
And a pothole, broken crumbly, black
Had caught a bit of sky
Peering Peering Peering I saw my face
Pink-orange glowing
I thought I saw me smile
And wondered–does she wonder?
Sneaker-dash, gurgle splush, and bit of me
Everywhere, glittered, flew
I wondered if the girl in the puddle–
wondered if she wondered–what it felt like
to be a million water bright pieces
Against a crayon box sky?
But now I will share with you actually really really good poetry. I heard this poem first on NPR and liked it so much I bought the anthology it was in. The anthology is called "Poet's Choice" compiled by Edward Hirsch. The poem is by William Matthews and is located on page 308-309. Coincidentally, Bruce Wiegl, a very awesome professor to receive edumacation from, is mentioned in this book. Anyway here is the poem by William Matthews.
Grief
E detto l’ho doler ti debbia!
–Inferno XXIV, 151
Snow coming in parallel to the street,
a cab spinning its tires (a rising whine
like a domestic argument, and then
the words ger said that never get forgot),
slush and backed-up runoff waters at each
corner, clogged buses smelling of wet wool...
The acrid anger of the homeless swells
like wet rice. This slop is where I live, bitch,
a sogged panhandler shrieks to whom it may
concern. But none of us slows down for scorn,
there’s someone’s misery in all we earn.
But like a bur in a dog’s coat his rage
has borrowed legs. We bring it home. It lives
like kin among the angers of the house,
and leaves the same sharp zinc taste in the mouth:
And I have told you this to make you grieve
no subject
on 2006-04-27 11:07 pm (UTC)