All Your Pretty Words

"The best which has been thought and said in the world."

[meanwhilepoetry]

[wiremothers-deactivated20230129]

[firstfullmoon]

Nicholas Bon, “We Could Get Drunk in This Field Because We’re in a Field & We’re in Love & What Else Would We Do?”

[geryone]

Goatsong, Leila Chatti

[writingsforwinter]

Thank you to Red Wing Arts for selecting my poem "If There Are Aliens" for their 2025 juried Poet Artist Collaboration. I had the pleasure of seeing my poem displayed in the annual Poet Artist Collaboration exhibit today at the Red Wing Arts Gallery in Red Wing, Minnesota alongside the accompanying art piece created by Leah Monson inspired by the poem.

[soracities]

Carl Phillips, "Fixed Shadow, Moving Water", Then the War: New and Selected Poems [ID'd]

[quixoticanarchy]

"Questionnaire" - Wendell Berry

1. How much poison are you willing to eat for the success of the free market and global trade? Please name your preferred poisons. 2. For the sake of goodness, how much evil are you willing to do? Fill in the following blanks with the names of your favorite evils and acts of hatred. 3. What sacrifices are you prepared to make for culture and civilization? Please list the monuments, shrines, and works of art you would most willingly destroy. 4. In the name of patriotism and the flag, how much of our beloved land are you willing to desecrate? List in the following spaces the mountains, rivers, towns, farms you could most readily do without. 5. State briefly the ideas, ideals, or hopes, the energy sources, the kinds of security, for which you would kill a child. Name, please, the children whom you would be willing to kill.

[geryone]

The Glimmering Room, Cynthia Cruz

[dogrotpdf]

4.45, Lev St. Valentine

[poetrythreesixfive]

My Brother

I’m watching my brother grow old,

I’m watching his moustache turn grey,

I’m seeing the man

that I might become

one day.

-GeorgeFilip

[violettesiren]

Let it come down: these thicknesses of air have long enough walled love away from love; stillness has hardened until words despair of their high leaps and kisses shut themselves back into wishing. Crippled lovers lie against a weather which holds out on them, waiting, awaiting some shrill sign, some cry, some screaming cat that smells a sacrifice and spells them thunder. Start the mumbling lips, syllable by monotonous syllable, that wash away the sullen griefs of love and drown out knowledge of an ancient war— o, ill-willed dark, give with the sound of rain, let love be brought to ignorance again.

A Prayer for Rain by Lisel Mueller

[allyourprettywords]

"I Close My Eyes When I Listen to Poetry," Amy MacLennan

People notice. But I still close my eyes in class, at readings. The table legs, scarred floors, cups of coffee get in the way, almost blur the words. Even the light is too much. I don't want to see you, poet speaking from the books, poet of the open mike. Not your fingertip scanning down the page, not your mouth. I want to be your mouth, in the dark, your tongue between our lips, the liquid l's and r's, a fricative fin that inverted kiss. I wait for your keening words, your aching words, first spoken with no one else there, sounds of animal or infant, fragmented, green, pawed through and kept. Still naked. And when you pause, I breathe as you do, leaning toward the air in your throat, your projected wanting, your final line.

[allyourprettywords]

"Should You Go First," Albert K. Rowswell

Should you go first and I remain —To walk the road alone, I'll live in memory's garden, dear, —With happy days we've known. In Spring I'll watch for roses red —When fades the lilac blue, In early Fall when brown leaves call —I'll catch a glimpse of you.

Should you go first and I remain —For battles to be fought, Each thing you've touched along the way —Will be a hallowed spot. I'll hear your voice, I'll see your smile, —Though blindly I may grope, The memory of your helping hand —Will buoy me on with hope.

Should you go first and I remain —To finish with the scroll, No length'ning shadows shall creep in —To make this life seem droll. We've known so much of happiness, —We've had our cup of joy And memory is one gift of God —That death cannot destroy.

Should you go first and I remain, —One thing I'd have you do; Walk slowly down that long, lone path, —For soon I'll follow you. I'll want to know each step you take —That I may walk the same. For someday, down that lonely road, —You'll hear me call your name.

Should you go first and I remain —To walk the road alone, I'll live in memory's garden, dear, —With happy days we've known. In Spring I'll watch for roses red —When fades the lilac blue, In early Fall when brown leaves call —I'll catch a glimpse of you.

Should you go first and I remain —For battles to be fought, Each thing you've touched along the way —Will be a hallowed spot. I'll hear your voice, I'll see your smile, —Though blindly I may grope, The memory of your helping hand —Will buoy me on with hope.

Should you go first and I remain —To finish with the scroll, No length'ning shadows shall creep in —To make this life seem droll. We've known so much of happiness, —We've had our cup of joy And memory is one gift of God —That death cannot destroy.

Should you go first and I remain, —One thing I'd have you do; Walk slowly down that long, lone path, —For soon I'll follow you. I'll want to know each step you take —That I may walk the same. For someday, down that lonely road, —You'll hear me call your name.

[allyourprettywords]

"When You Go," Edwin Morgan

When you go, if you go, and I should want to die, there's nothing I'd be saved by more than the time you fell asleep in my arms in a trust so gentle I let the darkening room drink up the evening, till rest, or the new rain lightly roused you awake. I asked if you head the rain in your dream and half dreaming still you only said, I love you.

[allyourprettywords]

"If the month of June was your friend," hannahrowrites

[allyourprettywords]

"Love is love," Loryn Brantz

Is love Is love Is all the love Do not deny Anyone who loves Their love It's love It's love It's all Fucking Love

[allyourprettywords]

"What Kind of Man," Kate Baer

What kind of man weeps at the feet of his wife in pain, holds up the pink and shrieking thing and feels the throb of time. What kind of man wraps a cloth around his waist and holds the baby to his chest, walks through the streets swaying like a drunk in morning. What kind of man feels the rage of men and only swallows at his daughter's fists at his chest. What kind of man does not give up his time, his many pleasures , but hands them over without a sound. What kind of man bends to hold them in their suffering, in their questions, in their garbled turns of phrase. What kind of man admits his failures, turns over his heavy stones, stands at the feet of grief and wanting and does not turn away. What kind of man becomes a father. A lasting place. A steady ship inside a tireless storm.