Franz Wright (1953-2015) grew up in the Northwest, the Midwest, and California. His father, James Wright, was also a poet. To Myself You are riding the bus again burrowing into the blackness of Interstate 80, the sole passenger with an overhead light on. And I am with you. I’m the interminable fields you can’t… (συνέχεια…)
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When Giving Is All We Have One river gives Its journey to the next. We give because someone gave to us. We give because nobody gave to us. We give because giving has changed us. We give because giving could have changed us. We have been better for it, We have been wounded by it—… (συνέχεια…)
We Astronomers We astronomers are nomads, Merchants, circus people, All the earth our tent. We are industrious. We breed enthusiasms, Honour our responsibility to awe. But the universe has moved a long way off. Sometimes, I confess, Starlight seems too sharp, And like the moon I bend my face to the ground, To the small… (συνέχεια…)
Location I set my heart out in the noontime sun, Telling it to grow warm. There is a space of warmth in the sky above, said my heart, But not here. I put my heart out by the blazing fire, Begging it to grow warm. There is a space of warmth on the ground below,… (συνέχεια…)
Songs I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said, I do not understand The words. I said, There are No words. Τραγούδια Κάθισα εκεί τραγουδώντας της τραγούδια στο σκοτάδι. Είπε: — Δεν καταλαβαίνω τα λόγια. Είπα: — Δεν υπάρχουν λόγια.
Where did you get such a dirty face, My darling dirty-faced child? I got it from crawling along in the dirt And biting two buttons off Jeremy’s shirt. I got it from chewing the roots of a rose And digging for clams in the yard with my nose. I got it from peeking into a… (συνέχεια…)
Edward Field was born in 1924 in Brooklyn, New York. The Farewell They say the ice will hold so there I go, forced to believe them by my act of trusting people, stepping out on it, and naturally it gaps open and I, forced to carry on coolly by my act of being imperturbable,… (συνέχεια…)
4 Δεκ 2021
Martin Luther King, Jr.
Συντάκτης: Κων/νος Βούλγαρης | Κάτω από: Εκπαίδευση στον 21ο αιώνα“We will go there, we will demand to be heard, and we will stay until America responds. If this means forcible repression of our movement, we will confront it, for we have done this before. If this means scorn or ridicule, we embrace it, for that is what America’s poor now receive. If it means… (συνέχεια…)
Philip Levine (1928-2015) was an American poet best known for his poems about working-class Detroit. The Rains The river rises and the rains keep coming. My Papa says it can’t flood for the water can run away as fast as it comes down. I believe him because he’s Papa and because I’m afraid of… (συνέχεια…)
4 Νοέ 2021
William Carlos Williams
Συντάκτης: Κων/νος Βούλγαρης | Κάτω από: Εκπαίδευση στον 21ο αιώναWilliam Carlos Williams (1883-1963) was born in Rutherford, New Jersey. This Is Just to Say I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold Αυτό είναι απλώς για να πω Έχω φάει τα δαμάσκηνα που… (συνέχεια…)
Trees I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear A nest of robins in her… (συνέχεια…)
The World Seems… The world seems so palpable And dense: people and things And the landscapes They inhabit or move through. Words, on the other hand, Are so abstract—they’re Made of empty air Or black scratches on a page That urge us to utter Certain sounds. And us: Poised in the middle, aware Of the… (συνέχεια…)
for Maria / για τη Μαρία [φίλη του ποιητή από τη Βολιβία] Crossing the Line Sitting across the table from you I think back to when our friendship came down from the mountains. It was a cold day and the miners had not left for work. You break a cookie in half like bread and… (συνέχεια…)
Since Hanna Moved Away The tires on my bike are flat. The sky is grouchy gray. At least it sure feels like that Since Hanna moved away. Chocolate ice cream tastes like prunes. December’s come to stay. They’ve taken back the Mays and Junes Since Hanna moved away. Flowers smell like halibut. Velvet feels like… (συνέχεια…)
I, Too I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong. Tomorrow, I’ll be at the table When company comes. Nobody’ll dare Say to me “Eat in the kitchen,” Then. Besides, They’ll see how beautiful… (συνέχεια…)
Become a Person The bee died upon entering the water What happened to his honey no one knew I left one fig and one kumquat In each dish for the host There were the yellow trunks of trees The memory of Spain There was the memory of being The memory of love Let the water… (συνέχεια…)
How To Eat a Poem Don’t be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon or plate or napkin or tablecloth. For there is no… (συνέχεια…)
Charles Reznikoff (1894-1976) was born in Brooklyn, New York. Beggar Woman When I was four years old my mother led me to the park. The spring sunshine was not too warm. The street was almost empty. The witch in my fairy-book came walking along. She stooped to fish some mouldy grapes out of the… (συνέχεια…)
Stephen Yenser (b. 1941) is a poet and literary critic from Wichita, Kansas. Petition on Santorini Mother of Stone, Cybele, Stone Mother, keep me low, Resigned, involved, confusable As to the novice eye the vine With wild thyme and caper, close To your chemic soil— Ash, tuff, and pumice—twined In on itself to stand… (συνέχεια…)
