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thanks for reading. for now I will stop stealing words without transmutation. further dispatches available at The Sham Bolt. thank you.

-Robert Francis. from Poetry Magazine No. III Vol. LXVI (June 1945).

#poem #poetry #robert francis #new england #sunset #robert frost #Poetry Magazine

ON A POPULAR PSYCHOLOGY

Feel anxious in a yellow room? Try blue to soothe the nerves. Orange to amp it up. In airports, blue walls. Orange seats on trains. Oh Kodachrome locomotion when stalled-out, down & out, craving rapid & real. However. When in greyscale. When exhausted by Roy G. Biv. Prescribe instead: Strange hands against my unstrange skin. The pull of rail & then more rail. The opposite pull toward death. Avoid dormant, for Pete’s sake. Avoid yellow.

-Kit Frick. from H_NGM_N 14

#poem #poetry #kit frick #hangman #h_ngm_n #colors #mind

QUIETNESS WITH A HAPPENING

1 her islands 2 and again – it grows dark: this is human-quietness (how strange) without danger 3 and again – (with nobody) – light 4 again – the movement of her islands -Gennady Aygi. from Child-And-Rose (New Directions 2003). trans. Peter France.

#poem #poetry #gennady aygi #new directions #quietness #russian poetry #chuvash #chuvash poetry

-Basil Bunting. from First Book of Odes. found in Collected Poems (Oxford 1978)

#poem #poetry #basil bunting #british poetry #english poetry #ghosts #gods

from APPLES TO ORANGES

Broadcasting nightly from the river’s darkness, I’ve got a new call-sign, buddy. Do you read? Night, call me Orange. Call me Mr. Fiesta. I’m giving a shoutout to anyone who knows Morse code, and I’m losing myself in the Zenith’s blue glow, the transceiver’s dim crackle, the endless white words of the waves. Stretched helpless along their length and dreaming that your ship might come to recover my floating body, bear it away like a prize, a tiny golden fleece.

-Maureen Thorson (Ugly Duckling 2011)

#poem #poetry #maureen thorson #apples to oranges #ugly duckling presse

RITUAL

first bury your hands then the third from the right toes your pancreas bury it next and so on in the order prescribed by ancient ires save the head for last cup your thumbs beneath for it to fall into have an eyelash be the last thing visible overground leave a heartbeat to tamp down the dirt to be a shadow for grassblade above then nothing up there at the beginning of this poem nothing so that the last the very last all that’ll be left to do then is bury your hands etc.

-Bill Knott. found in Poems 1963-1988 (Pittsburgh 1989)

#poem #poetry #bill knott #ritual #dirt

THE SKY

The year the sky was over our heads. The year midsummer came so suddenly when I awoke. The year I flourished a soaking umbrella like a trapeze artist. The year the sky began to come down and spread out like a sandbar.

-Kôichi Iijima. found in Post-War Japanese Poetry (Penguin 1972). Harry and Lynn Guest and Shôzô Kajima, eds. and trans.

#Ijima Kôichi #Kôichi Ijima #poetry #poem #japanese poetry #japan #sky #sandbar

MURDER ONE

The processes activities break drop and disappear The crocuses practicate skates spear the mist Multiple-intersecting plateaux pierces thought cluster Terrible invective plateaux where the knowns muster mistake Rhizomic electro-bio-chemistry flakes the proceed Rise direct proto-metonymy burns the need to see this Consequent chreods mitigate against change Contributes desire to gain a range and shake it off Complex analyses, described rhetorically from a podium Raw sex banalities derived rheology spasm then hold Theories of proprioception rapidly prone to field Images, recurrences, memory, before tape stretches Mazes, crucibles, metaphor enough fetches to stave off common sense.

-Allen Fisher. from Emergent Manner (Spanner 1999). more here. found in Other: British and Irish Poetry since 1970.

#allen fisher #poetry #poem #murder one #british poetry

HOW TO GET BY

I often wonder just to get your attention I am usually indifferent to what I tell you, scarcely endangered by hysteria I remain on the coast & never go out further than where I can stand up. The lazy valley is destroyed every afternoon promptly at 4 after that we have tea & go to the volcano at 6. Myself, I enjoy seeing deserts being made & I try to be there at 8 every Tuesday. Children seem to like watching the mountains forming and are often dazzled as we trace a river to its first raindrop. I remember having to diagram a rainbow in the sixth grade -- it left me limp for hours. Also I received particularly high marks during the term on thunderstorms (& here is where the girls excel -- the boys being better at dissecting clouds). But, looking back, it's the words of a bent hooded old matron that I've come to depend most upon "My dear," she rasped, resting her shoulder on the wall of the cave where we were observing the development of stalactites, "My dear, sweet almond oil, oil of rosemary, & two drams of cocoa oil massaged gently into the underarms & insteps will carry you through almost any situation."

-Maureen Owen. from "A Brass Choir Approaches the Burial Ground" first published in BIG DEAL 5 (1977). found here

#maureen owen #poem #poetry #brass band #volcano #rainbow #oil

An Octet... Upon Arriving in His Home, in the Town of Dieppe, Hungry

Whoever wishes to go to Florida,

Let him go where I have been,

And return dry and arid,

And worn out by rot.

For the only good I have brought back—

A single silvery stick in my hand.

But I am safe, not defeated:

It’s time to eat; I die of hunger.

-Nicholas Le Challeux, trans. Maurice O’Sullivan. Written in 1565, it is the earliest known poem about America written by a European. found here

#poem #poetry #hunger #nicholas le challeux #florida #french poetry #tourists

Rock Me, Baby

Turning screw: In wave-guide

Technique an ad

Justing element in the form of

A rod whose depth of pene

Tration through the wall into

A wave-guide or cavity is ad-

Justable by rotating a screw

-Ishmael Reed. Orig published in Chattanooga (1973).

#poem #poetry #rock me baby #chattanooga #ishmael reed #screw #wave-guide

Question

What is thy joy, O heart of man?

Delight uncomprehended;

When hardly welcomed, ended;

One unreturning moment's span.

-Nikolaus Lenau, trans. Dwight Durling. found in An Anthology of German Poetry From Hölderlin to Rilke ed. Angel Flores. find a copy here

#poem #poetry #nikolaus lenau #dwight durling #german poetry #germany #question #moment

Read to Me Baby

for C

Coleman Barks me bear man with your slippery tongue

ignite the Ghazal couplets could set me free

baby don’t stop fooling around oh!

those words translate me

come on now Coleman Barks me

-Laura LeHew. from Flywheel 2. she edits uttered chaos.

#poem #poetry #flywheel #uttered chaos #read to me #coleman #ghazal

TWO BY JOE ROSS

MIDDLE: excluded Plain said and said so. Page down Tuesday. Oil wells and green field splinters, this year. Old world poetry and the wasted paper leans upon the in us. Dance rapid and tight, enough to notice and not care. But to do and get done, already spent and not providing. Your pension is our poison. Flowers & bombs at thank you. Ten performances & awards, medals, honor – your substance, abuse. We are grafted, held, and fought. Precious and few, on the mend – torn, tattered, and made to mod. This rising retroaction upon the spin, uneven, clean & shaven This is dirty and obscene. A sight of laser light. Pour that man a beer, shake the top down. Yo mother fucker, new order hope.

NOSTALGIA: report

A line that comes undone. Here honey your gun. So sweet, so soft, so stiff. You’re malleable in form. I ask for butter but will accept lead. Take head. Your sex excites my mind. Your cheese runs my dog. For you a thought must be inside out. And act – a divine scream. Your center hot and melting rage. I know thinly concealed – welcome to your world. Now February, think of snow even if your not. Try to cover in white, recover the not lost. I slip, hold tight to this shoot. There are tears in my body. Tears in you. Tears in your lake. Tears in the world. Tears on the take. Tears all over and really not a single drop. Know what I mean? I feel has fell from the inside. There stays the shell – take aim and launch. A site-on Your cross hairs in my mouth. My weapon at your brain. This kind act so.

-Joe Ross. both from EQUATIONS=equals (Green Integer 2004). found here. more here and here.

#poem #poetry #joe ross #joseph ross #green integer #EQUATIONS=equals

Idle Song

After such painstaking study of empty-gate dharma,

everything life plants in the mind has dissolved away:

there's nothing left now but that old poetry demon.

A little wind or moon, and I'm chanting an idle song.

-Po Chü-i (772-846 CE), trans. David Hinton. found in The New Directions Anthology of Classical Chinese Poetry ed. Eliot Weinberger. more info here

#poem #poetry #po chu-i #classical chinese poetry #chinese poetry #china #david hinton #idle #t'ang poetry #t'ang dynasty

The Poem Number Zero

Don’t try to

read this or

make a sense of it

this is a dummy copy

don’t try to read this or ma

ke sense of it

this is a dummy copy don’t try

to read this or make a sense of

it this is a dummy copy don’t try to

read this or make a sense of it this is a dummy copy

don’t try to read or make

a sense of it

this is a dummy

copy don’t try to read this

or make a sense of

it this is a dummy copy

don’t try to read this or make

a sense

of it this is a dummy

copy don’t try to read this or make a sense of it

this is a dummy copy don’t try

-Saleel Walgh. trans. Sachkin Ketkar. found here.

#poem #poetry #saleel walgh #the poem number zero #sachkin ketkar #marathi poetry #indian poetry

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