Year: 2003

  • The Sunlight on the Garden

    The Sunlight on the Garden by Louis MacNeice The sunlight on the garden Hardens and grows cold, We cannot cage the minute Within its nets of gold; When all is told We cannot beg for pardon. Our freedom as free lances Advances towards its end; The earth compels, upon it Sonnets and birds descend; And […]

  • For Alan

    Permanently by Kenneth Koch One day the Nouns were clustered in the street. An Adjective walked by, with her dark beauty. The Nouns were struck, moved, changed. The next day a Verb drove up, and created the Sentence. Each Sentence says one thing— for example, “Although it was a dark rainy day when the Adjective […]

  • Separation

    Separation by W. S. Merwin Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

  • The Illiterate

    The Illiterate by William Meredith Touching your goodness, I am like a man Who turns a letter over in his hand And you might think that this was because the hand Was unfamiliar but, truth is, the man Has never had a letter from anyone; And now he is both afraid of what it means […]

  • Unbosoming

    I’ve been thinking about this word today. The thing that struck me was that it is defining a noun, “summer,” as an activity, “unbosoming.” Can anyone think of examples where this is commonly done? This question falls into the context of our discussion on the poet’s relationship to images: can he capture them or do […]

  • Poetry locale

    Hey! Can we do poetry this week at our place? It would help me out and it looks like chez Jon and Sam is the place to be FRI night. If its inconvenient, though, no worries.

  • Stars

    To go along with the sun, here are the stars: Stars by Mary Oliver Here in my head, language keeps making its tiny noises. How can I hope to be friends with the hard white stars whose flaring and hissing are not speech but a pure radiance? How can I hope to be friends with […]

  • RE: Nephelidia

    I tell ya, I’m such a sucker for alliteration. (That and lights on trees in the winter.) So, needless to say, I enjoyed the Swinburne poem you posted Mike. The snow is blowing out here in Nebraska, but not as high as the trees. That’s a good thing though since I intend to come home […]

  • A little alliteration ala Swinburne

    I apologize for being so out of things and unresponsive lately. I am so deeply drenched in the depths of the unpoetic and pathetic linguistic that the pressure is poised to prompt me to implode. But I’m hoping to take a break from it all for a couple hours to do our thing thursday night. […]

  • Happy Birthday, Lawless

    A poem in your honor: