William Butler Yeats: Adam’s Curse
We sat together at one summer’s end,
That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,
And you and I, and talked of poetry.
Robert Wrigley: By the Edge of that Water
She wandered to him
through a crowd of thousands
before an outdoor concert by the Grateful Dead.
William Butler Yeats: Among School Children
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?
William Butler Yeats: After Long Silence
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
Michael Simms: The Turn
It’s the old dancers that fascinate me.
Training everyday as the body resists,
The spirit lifts them into clarity.
William Butler Yeats: The Wild Swans at Coole
The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky…
Michael Simms: A True Story of How I Almost Became a Rock and Roll God (with special appearance by Iron Butterfly)
So there I was, jumping up and down on a king-sized bed in an expensive hotel in Miami Beach, drinking rum straight from the bottle. And right beside me, jumping up and down, playing the air-guitar and blasting out his famous song In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, was Doug Ingle.
Lola Ridge: The Dream
But the day is an up-turned cup
and its sun a junk of red iron
guttering in sluggish-green water
Percy Bysshe Shelley: Stanzas Written in Dejection, Near Naples
The sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon’s transparent might, The breath of the … Continue reading
Djelloul Marbrook: The donnée as entry to the temple
A crucial point in the making of some poems, especially long ones, arrives when the poet must decide whether to push through a kind of caesura in the process. That’s the … Continue reading
William Butler Yeats: The Second Coming
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
Let’s Hear It for Ball-Busting Poetry About a World Men Have Ruined!
Let’s have dangerous, trouble-making, side-sinister, cantankerous, mean poetry. Let`s have pure-damn evil poetry. Looking out my kitchen window, having watched a red-tailed hawk stoop and carry off a baby rabbit, … Continue reading
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