1) Sleeping birds, lead me, soft birds, be me inside this black room, back of the white moon. In the dark night sight frightens me. 2) Who is it nuzzles there with furred, round headed stare? Who, perched on the skin, body's float, is holding on? What other one stares still, plays still, on and on?...
Two years ago, when I was eighteen, I was in love with my professor. It was springtime and the trees were full of pink apple blossoms. I ran two miles to his house to see him. When I got there he told me to sit on the ottoman next to his armchair and there I perched, clasping my hands until they...
Pulchritudinous from the OED: Beautiful, graceful, or fine in any way. as in 1912 L.J. Vance Destroying Angel xv. 217, I love my love with a P because he's Perfectly Pulchritudinous and Possesses the Power of Pleasing. as in beautiful, beatific, beat. as in Amiri Baraka "Ka'Ba": "We are beautiful...
Let's make something abstract like Anselm's poem. But I can't do it, you will have to do it for me. For I am stuck in literality. Yes, let's make something so abstract everyone will think they're reading John Ashbery... Everyone will hate us because they don't understand it. What the fuck? And the...
Ann Mikolowski, “Robert Creeley” (1988). Oil on linen. 3 1/4” x 2 3/8”. Collection Penelope Creeley. from http://brooklynrail.org/2007/5/artseen/ann-mikolowski-two-ways-of-looking-in-a- Ann Mikolowski: Two Ways of Looking in a Mirror Center Galleries, College for Creative Studies, Detroit,...
Could write of fucking-- rather its instant or the slow longing at times of its approach-- how the young man desires how, older, it is never known but, familiar, comes to be so. How your breasts, love, fall in a rhythm also familiar, neither tired nor so young they push forward. I hate the...
pulsing-- kinetic--flicker details of (moth) wing, other parts-- occurring between light source--and the light now on the wall scale--as detail of "size" --Daniel Kane DANIEL KANE LECTURE, Naropa 6/26/08, 1:30-3pm Begins by talking about Maya Deren's Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) "the rhythm of...
A Token My lady fair with soft arms, what can I say to you—words, words as if all worlds were there. --Robert Creeley
Robert Creeley once wrote a poem about the caves of Lascaux in the South of France. He wrote that once upon a time, a prehistoric man got his mojo working then painted all of those images of deer and bison and vulvas ("the first instances of the sacred feminine"). He painted them in longing or in...
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