I Eat Poetry

thank you. :)

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Oh, dude.

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It's lovely. In it's own simplicity, it's lovely, and it's absolutely complete.

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ah, okay. yes, i agree.

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theotherchicago.livejournal.com

Another Long Night in the Office of Dreams by Jeffrey McDaniel

There's a woman I'm in love with, but I forget
what she looks like, so I take out my paintbrushes
and create my image of her.

Your eyes are blue like the morning of going.
Your ears are tender twists of logic. Your thighs
are impossible avenues my car swerves out of control on.

I want to cut the silence with your shoulderblades,
blow moon-shaped kisses to orbit your skull
as you sleep on the highest ledge of my insomnia,

but I'm a broken promise in a pawn shop,
and this is just a secret that happens to involve you.

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gorgeous. thank you for sharing!

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theotherchicago.livejournal.com

Absence also by Jeffrey McDaniel

On the scales of desire, your absence weighs more
than someone else’s presence, so I say no thanks

to the woman who throws her girdle at my feet,
as I dropp a postcard in the mailbox and watch it

throb like a blue heart in the dark. Your eyes
are so green – one of your parents must be

part traffic light. We’re both self-centered,
but the world revolves around us at the same speed.

Last night I tossed and turned inside a thundercloud.
This morning my sheets were covered in pollen.

I remember the long division of Saturday’s
pomegranate, a thousand nebulae in your hair,

as soldiers marched by, dragging big army bags
filled with water balloons, and we passed a lit match,

back and forth, between our lips, under an oak tree
I had absolutely nothing to do with.

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so GOOD. thank you.

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this one's lovely :)

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Variations on the Word Sleep by Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head.

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside you, and you enter
it as easily as beathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

Margaret Atwood

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YES. one of my favorites. i always love seeing it.

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always, always good

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artofthebawdy.livejournal.com

My favorite is the invitation by mountain oraih

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

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girl-in-blue.livejournal.com

wow, he doesn't ask for much does he? haha, just kidding - this is lovely.

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thank you, friend!

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:O i have a new favourite

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I've always loved this one - like the ultimate personal ad :D

Beautiful!

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acreofbones.livejournal.com

One of my favourite poems of all time. *le swoon*

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I love this.

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logandi.livejournal.com

Even if I now saw you
Only once,
I would long for you
Through worlds,
Worlds.

Izumi Shikibu (c.974)

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perfect. thank you.

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Oh, that is lovely....

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Beautiful.

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epistolarysmack.livejournal.com

I'm always fond of Neruda's "Every Day You Play," but that might constitute a classic. (Google will get it, I'm too lazy.)

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oh, i love me some neruda.

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mm511.livejournal.com

Basically every sonnet by Edna St. Vincent Millay. A lot of poems by Mark Doty, though I can't think of any off the top of my head. And the entirety of the novel-in-verse Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson. Not very useful, I know, but you asked. :-P

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i appreciate it, i do! thanks. :)

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oh, how lovely. thank you.

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ROMEO
[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

JULIET
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

ROMEO
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

JULIET
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

ROMEO
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

JULIET
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.

ROMEO
Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

it's not really a classic

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LOL, um, i do think it's a classic. i love it, though, it's true.

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lol, well, it's shakespeare, not conventionally one of the 'the classics' in poetry.

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*BUT not one of the etc etc

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"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take."

One of the best pick-up lines in literature :D

What? It would work on me! **chuckle**

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it's so true! i think my favourite line from the entire play is when juliet is all scandalised and says "what satisfaction canst thou have tonight?" and romeo is all "dangit."

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sparklestarsy.livejournal.com

Unrelatedly (somewhat).....I really like the "Appeal to the Grammarians." Considered posting it misself (but didn't so, 'mglad you did). :)

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