by Adrienne Rich There’s a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted who disappeared into those shadows. I’ve walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don’t be fooled this is not aContinue reading “What Kind of Times are these”
Category Archives: poetry
The Newspaper
by Penina Moise To a Venetian coin, the first Gazetta For its generic title became debtor Whither excursive Fancy tends thy Flight? Like Eastern Caliph masking thee at night, By Vezier memory attended still, Thou pertly pryest in each domicil. Woe! to the Caitiff then who in his cups, Unconscious with sublimity he sups, ShallContinue reading “The Newspaper”
All watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace
By Richard Brautigan I like to think (and the sooner the better!) of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together in mutually programming harmony like pure water touching clear sky. I like to think (right now, please!) of a cybernetic forest filled with pines and electronics where deer stroll peacefully past computers asContinue reading “All watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace”
The old gods
by Dannie Abse The gods, old as night, don’t trouble us. Poor weeping Venus! Her pubic hairs are grey, and her magic love girdle has lost its spring. Neptune wonders where he has put his trident. Mars is gaga – illusory vultures on the wing. Pluto, exhumed, blinks. My kind of world, he thinks. KidnappingContinue reading “The old gods”
First we take Manhattan
by Leonard Cohen They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom For trying to change the system from within I’m coming now, I’m coming to reward them First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin. I’m guided by a signal in the heavens I’m guided by this birthmark on my skin I’m guided by theContinue reading “First we take Manhattan”
Ahaka he iti pounamu Although it is small it is greenstone
by Louise Wallace I choose pounamu it is a river stone she was of the earth she was orchids in the hothouse less difficult than her husband fruit trees their hard graft plums nectarines a child we never spoke of another a castaway I choose to plant my legs to ground them I am theContinue reading “Ahaka he iti pounamu Although it is small it is greenstone”
We Are Going
by Oodgeroo Noonuccal They came into the little town A semi-naked band subdued and silent All that remained of their tribe. They came here to the place of their old bora ground Where now the many white men hurry about like ants. Notice of the estate agent reads: ‘Rubbish May Be Tipped Here’. Now itContinue reading “We Are Going”
Unto us . . .
by Spike Milligan Somewhere at some time They committed themselves to me And so, I was! Small, but I WAS! Tiny, in shape Lusting to live I hung in my pulsing cave. Soon they knew of me My mother – my father. I had no say in my being I lived on trust And loveContinue reading “Unto us . . .”
The Poison Tree
by William Blake I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, and it did grow. And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft, deceitful wiles. AndContinue reading “The Poison Tree”
Digging
by Seamus Heaney Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests, snug as a gun. Under my window, a clear rasping sound When the spade sinks in to gravelly ground: My father digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythmContinue reading “Digging”
Robin's Nest 