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Previous RealNewMusic Poems
RealNewMusic 2010
My thoughts are coy fish Swelling in the space I give them Or their bones drying splinters in my brain Some gasping at air they can't breathe Others nibbling on fractions of sunlight All wandering patternless Through faulty synapses I keep some on strings Like balloon animals Sometimes I think I should Snip the threads and let them go Through ears and eyebrows Or let them wrap themselves up Cocoons of cautionary fleshy fibers In the folds of my brain To transcend this mortal mind And be taken up upon the winds of the universe My thoughts are coy fish That have sprouted wings
RealNewMusic 2009
Cold ivy twines up her legs. "Waiting For Snow To Fall" by Sean Gunning Even faintly audible Or remotely palpable Its dim light bulb flickering A day’s last breath going out Numb from counting syllables And re-cycling scribbles And adding more crossings-out, Barely emitting a glow Closing up shop for the night ‘Till the bell tinkles just right And softly sounds the word snow Whose soft wet splash on her ear Asks like a small humming bird Could this be just the right word You’ve waited all day to hear? "Fastball" by Tom Callinan Pay attention. You will see it. Einstein on the Sports page! See the photograph. The athlete. A professional trained to never take his eyes off of the ball. And yet there it is blurred in the periphery, stretched slightly, sunlit orb, frozen acceleration. Now look at the eyes, fixed, focused, in the final moment before this crowning achievement, the eyes gaze into an empty space. It’s gone, you see. It’s gone. Before he can even perceive it. Still lightning cracks out of the blue. A thundering ovation sweeps the shimmering surface of his skin. "This Moment" by Eavan Boland A neighbourhood. At dusk. Things are getting ready to happen out of sight. Stars and moths. And rinds slanting around fruit. But not yet. One tree is black. One window is yellow as butter. A woman leans down to catch a child who has run into her arms this moment. Stars rise. Moths flutter. Apples sweeten in the dark. from In a Time of Violence, 1994 W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York, NY Copyright 1994 by Eavan Boland. All rights reserved. Reproduced with permission "Surprised By Evening" by Robert Bly There is unknown dust that is near us Waves breaking on shores just over the hill Trees full of birds that we have never seen Nets drawn with dark fish. The evening arrives; we look up and it is there It has come through the nets of the stars Through the tissues of the grass Walking quietly over the asylums of the waters. The day shall never end we think: We have hair that seemed born for the daylight; But at last the quiet waters of the night will rise And our skin shall see far off as it does under water. |
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