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TAG Cloud Results:

"Poetry"

Found a total of 66 page(s) matching this tag.

  • /stories/poetry/
    I Was Staying in the Castro District
    Summary: I was staying in the Castro district,
    I came to sit by the bed of my dying brother, oh boy,
    it was Halloween when I arrived,
    Six-foot men with beautiful legs in tutus and heels,

  • /stories/poetry/
    Your Marriage is Like Apollo 13
    Summary: If someone said “Your marriage is like Apollo 13.
    You need to gather the duct tape, the plastic bags,
    all the tools to make a carbon scrubbing machine
    to clean the oxygen of your love so you can survive.

  • /stories/poetry/
    Outposts of Love
    Summary: We have not yet met the outposts of love
    We’re in those between days
    sorta kinda sixty old
    but not cataract crippled mind blank ninety old.

  • /stories/poetry/
    The Makeover
    Summary: I keep attempting a makeover I secretly feel too far-gone for those,
    my hair isn’t interested,
    then there’s all that flab...

  • /stories/poetry/
    The Dreams of the Fruit Fly
    Summary: How simple and sweet
    the dreams of the fruit fly
    beguiled awake by
    a corpsey blackened banana...

  • /stories/poetry/
    Dowsing
    Summary: I am dowsing every day for the
    water of Your love, feeling
    tugs on the branches
    of my body, nudges
    when I wander into
    desert or brackish water.

  • /stories/poetry/
    All You Can Eat Roadside Buffet
    Summary: Look at that open field, the thigh high cacophony of
    yarrow and milkweed, Queen Anne’s Lace and clover,
    Black-eyed Susans and St John’s Wort, spiny
    elbows by elbows, filmy colored wings by wings,
    pokey proddy pointy antennas by antennas.

  • /stories/poetry/
    I Dreamed I Was a Bee
    Summary: I dreamed I was a bee
    and entered a cathedral of flowers

  • /stories/poetry/
    Christmas Card
    Summary: Cold, darker nights,
    Thanksgiving and Oh Christmas tree,
    this is the end of the calendar year
    when we X out the final days
    and make resolutions.

  • /stories/poetry/
    How Long Does It Take a Mouse?
    Summary: How long does it take a mouse
    to learn the ways of its people, when
    the nose is small and pink and the ears
    are cupped soft and gray to the sky?

  • /stories/poetry/
    I Call My Me!
    Summary: I call my me!
    Who are me?
    Who am me?

  • /stories/poetry/
    Why Is the Place of Sleep So Lonely
    Summary: Why is the place of sleep so lonely, why do worries
    loom large in the dark?

  • /stories/poetry/
    The Song of Overwhelm
    Summary: If bees pollinate in the key of C
    what is the key of a stinging hornet?

  • /stories/poetry/
    I Set My Soles On the Ground of Being
    Summary: I set my soles on the ground of being,
    my soul on the ground of Your being (Oh God).
    Whereforever thou goest I wish to go
    Whichever way the world tilts,
    there with You, I wish to be.

  • /stories/poetry/
    At the Hour of Our Death Amen
    Summary: At the hour of our death amen,
    does our life play like a video?
    All the standout moments;
    the blood splash and cry of birth,
    significant birthdays, applause and cake?

  • /stories/poetry/
    Starving Artist on Kinnikkinnick
    Summary: In Milwaukee in 1977 the winter was
    a deep freeze of uncompromising darkness.
    I ate in the weird little cosmos of George Webb’s greasy counter . . .

  • /stories/poetry/
    I Dreamed of England Returned to Herself
    Summary: This note came from Mary Angela when she submitted this poem: "I wrote this poem after just looking at the beautiful indexes to my old anthologies on English literature... and I guess it got mixed in with all the immense tragedies that have lately befallen England both in London...

  • /stories/poetry/
    I Am Certain That Jesus Was Not That
    Summary: I am certain that Jesus was not that
    person walking down a dusty road
    in an immaculate robe, in Cinemascope

  • /stories/poetry/
    My Office is a Baked Potato, and other vegetables
    Summary: My room is painted white and pale yellow

  • /stories/poetry/
    Dog at Dawn
    Summary: Ghoulish numbers on the clock: it's three. Farewell sleep, I sigh,

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