Slant (Suji Kwock Kim)

[angabel.livejournal.com]

Slant (Suji Kwock Kim)

If the angle of an eye is all,   

the slant of hope, the slant of dreaming, according to each life,

what is the light of this city,

light of Lady Liberty, possessor of the most famous armpit in the world,

light of the lovers on Chinese soap operas, throwing BBQ’d ducks at each other   

                                                             with that live-it-up-while-you’re-young, Woo Me kind of love,

light of the old men sitting on crates outside geegaw shops

                                                             selling dried seahorses & plastic Temples of Heaven,

light of the Ying ‘n’ Yang Junk Palace,

light of the Golden Phoenix Hair Salon, light of Wig-o-ramas,

light of the suntanners in Central Park turning over like rotisserie chickens sizzling on a spit,

light of the Pluck U & Gone with the Wings fried-chicken shops,

the parking-meter-leaners, the Glamazons,

the oglers wearing fern-wilting quantities of cologne, strutting, trash-talking, glorious:

the immigrants, the refugees, the peddlars, stockbrokers and janitors, stenographers and cooks,

all of us making and unmaking ourselves,   

hurrying forwards, toward who we’ll become, one way only, one life only:   

free in time but not from it,

here in the city the living make together, and make and unmake over and over

Quick, quick, ask heaven of it, of every mortal relation,

feeling that is fleeing,

for what would the heart be without a heaven to set it on?

I can’t help thinking no word will ever be as full of life as this world,   

I can’t help thinking of thanks.  

Also, if anyone has any poems Not By Dead White Guys that they'd like to submit to my poetry tumblr, please let me know! http://midnight-hour-poetry.tumblr.com/ There are some nights I really struggle with discovering a new poet (as I'm trying to not repeat any poets, although currently I've fallen into reading a couple of stanzas from Adrienne Rich's "Twenty-One Love Poems" every Monday). This community has been a great help in this, but I'm sure there are Non Dead White Guys poets you people are enamored with and feel should get more love/some notice, right?

Demas, In Love With This Present World | Kristin Fogdall

[exceptindreams.livejournal.com]

"Demas, In Love With This Present World"
Kristin Fogdall

2 Timothy 4:9-10

What you've heard is true — I've gone to Thessilonika.
I've taken a room above the agora with a view
of the harbor and wake too early to merchants' voices,
bleatings of every sort, and carpets being beaten.
The innkeeper and his wife bring bread — they are kind,
and their daughter is pretty, though she has a withered hand.

At night I watch the fishing boats come in to shore,
hung with many lanterns. The men pull up their nets
and sort the catch in shifting light; they sometimes sing
a song about the moon seducing an old sailor
and drink a bit and fall asleep wrapped in their robes.
Later someone puts the lights out one by one.

In between, the days are slow, and I think of you often.
I know what some are saying, that I loved my father
and his estate more than truth and our way of life.
It wasn't the inheritance that called me back,
and I won't return to the assembly or his house.
Demetrius is here, asleep beside me as I write.

( He has thrown one of his warm legs over me )