#a.r.ammons

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[from my flickr files]

* * * *

Reading by A.R. Ammons

It’s nice after dinner to walk down to the beach

and find the biggest thing on earth relatively calm

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[my flickr files]

* * * *

Reading by A.R. Ammons

It’s nice after dinner to walk down to the beach and find the biggest thing on earth relatively calm.

[apoemaday]

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Alina Stefanescu :: @aliner

Asterisks are my favorite fallen stars. *This poem was found after the poet's death on the back of an envelope from Helen Vender, November 28, 1981.

[poem-today]

A poem by A. R. Ammons

The City Limits

When you consider the radiance, that it does not withhold

itself but pours its abundance without selection into every

nook and cranny not overhung or hidden; when you consider

that birds’ bones make no awful noise against the light but

lie low in the light as in a high testimony; when you consider

the radiance, that it will look into the guiltiest

swervings of the weaving heart and bear itself upon them,

not flinching into disguise or darkening; when you consider

the abundance of such resource as illuminates the glow-blue

bodies and gold-skeined wings of flies swarming the dumped

guts of a natural slaughter or the coil of shit and in no

way winces from its storms of generosity; when you consider

that air or vacuum, snow or shale, squid or wolf, rose or lichen,

each is accepted into as much light as it will take, then

the heart moves roomier, the man stands and looks about, the

leaf does not increase itself above the grass, and the dark

work of the deepest cells is of a tune with May bushes

and fear lit by the breadth of such calmly turns to praise.

A. R. Ammons

1926-2001

[klamiot]

a walk is a poem, dog-eared in my soul

a walk is a poem, dog-eared in my soul

   With the first step, the number of shapes the walk might take is infinite, but then the walk begins to define itself as it goes along, though freedom remains total with each step: any tempting side road can be turned into an impulse, or any wild patch of woods can be explored. The pattern of the walk is to come true, is to be recognized, discovered.” –  A.R. Ammons, A Poem is a Walk

In A.R.…

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[underthechinaberrytree]

...when you can't put something out of the world, put it out of your mind: but don't just put something out of your mind--that leaves a hole: put something you want to think about in the hole and what that doesn't fill it will displace: happiness is like anything else: if you get it you ought to have to make it: that is why happiness is, according to *B. Googe, like money, which one also has to make (or steal or inherit): our society has made it clear it doesn't much care how you get it...

-- A.R. Ammons, from Garbage (1993)

*n.b. : Barnabe Googe

[appy]

"In Memoriam Mae Noblitt", by A.R. Ammons

This is just a place: we go around, distanced, yearly in a star's

atmosphere, turning daily into and out of direct light and

slanting through the quadrant seasons: deep space begins at our

heels, nearly rousing us loose: we look up or out so high, sight's

silk almost draws us away: this is just a place: currents worry themselves

coiled and free in airs and oceans: water picks up mineral shadow and

plasm into billions of designs, frames: trees, grains, bacteria: but

is love a reality we made here ourselves-- and grief--did we design

that--or do these, like currents, whine in and out among us merely

as we arrive and go: this is just a place: the reality we agree with,

that agrees with us, outbounding this, arrives to touch, joining with

us from far away: our home which defines us is elsewhere but not

so far away we have forgotten it: this is just a place.

[litafficionado]

Art's the fruit of the trees of pain that grow in the fields of unspent life.

A.R. Ammons, from Orchard