Posts tagged ‘1977’

Tuesday, 26 September 2017

96 Vandam by Gerald Stern

I am going to carry my bed into New York City tonight
complete with dangling sheets and ripped blankets;
I am going to push it across three dark highways
or coast along under 600,000 faint stars.
I want to have it with me so I don’t have to beg
for too much shelter from my weak and exhausted friends.
I want to be as close as possible to my pillow
in case a dream or a fantasy should pass by.
I want to fall asleep on my own fire escape
and wake up dazed and hungry
to the sound of garbage grinding in the street below
and the smell of coffee cooking in the window above.

From: https://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/150.html

Date: 1977

By: Gerald Stern (1925- )

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Tuesday, 9 May 2017

Even in Dreams by Ise no miyasudokoro

Even in dreams
I do not want him to know
that it is me he is making love to,
for I am overcome with blushes
when I see my face in my morning mirror.

From: Rexroth, Kenneth and Atsumi, Ikuko (eds.), Women Poets of Japan, 1977, New Directions: New York, p. 18.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=0BMQwLapofkC)

Date: 10th century (original in Japanese); 1977 (translation in English)

By: Ise no miyasudokoro (c875-c938)

Translated by: Kenneth Charles Marion Rexroth (1905-1982) and Ikuko Atsumi (1940- )

Friday, 15 July 2016

What Is Poetry by John Ashbery

The medieval town, with frieze
Of boy scouts from Nagoya? The snow

That came when we wanted it to snow?
Beautiful images? Trying to avoid

Ideas, as in this poem? But we
Go back to them as to a wife, leaving

The mistress we desire? Now they
Will have to believe it

As we believed it. In school
All the thought got combed out:

What was left was like a field.
Shut your eyes, and you can feel it for miles around.

Now open them on a thin vertical path.
It might give us–what?–some flowers soon?

From: http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/what-is-poetry.html

Date: 1977

By: John Ashbery (1927- )

Saturday, 23 January 2016

Highway by Antigone Kefala

Mean days
everyone trading in speed.
Around us
the sun ripens the flesh of
the rocks to strange scents,
the columns of light sail unheard
between the flanks of the hills.
The garment
no longer sits on our shoulders
we have shrivelled our gestures
bartered our time
to feed the steel toys.

From: http://purl.library.usyd.edu.au/setis/westerly/pdfs/205723

Date: 1977

By: Antigone Kefala (1935- )

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

On Mr. L. Phillips Howard’s Profound Poem Entitled “Life’s Mystery” by Howard Phillips Lovecraft

Life! Ah, Life!
What may this fluorescent pageant mean?
Who can the evanescent object glean?
He that is dead is the key of Life—
Gone is the symbol, deep is the grave!

Man is a breath, and Life is the fire;
Birth is death, and silence the choir
Wrest from the aeons the heart of gold!
Tear from the fabric the threads that are old!
Life! Ah, Life!
—L. Phillips Howard

These lines profound expressly were design’d
To please the deep poetic modern mind.
Herein no tawdry metric art appears,
Nor does the meaning roughly stain our ears.
With true chaotic grace the formless rhymes
Stagger along, and suit the cultur’d times.
Should some chance word a directer sound present,
Frown not too harshly on the accident,
And if one trace of utter sense be there,
Forgive the poet for his want of care.

From: http://freeread.com.au/@rglibrary/HPLovecraft/Poetry-Essays/SelectedPoems.html#p14

Date: 1977 (published)

By: Howard Phillips Lovecraft (1890-1937)

Friday, 31 July 2015

Reothairt by Sorley MacLean

Again and again when I am broken
my thought comes on you when you were young,
and the incomprehensible ocean fills
with floodtide and a thousand sails.

The shore of trouble is hidden
with its reefs and the wrack of grief,
and the unbreaking wave strikes
about my feet with a silken rubbing.

How did the springtide not last,
the springtide more golden to me than to the birds,
and how did I lose its succour,
ebbing drop by drop of grief?

From: http://www.thedarkhorsemagazine.com/Resources/HaldaneOnMacLean.pdf

Date:1977 (Scots Gaelic and English)

By: Sorley MacLean (1911-1996)

Translated by: Sorley MacLean (1911-1996)

Tuesday, 21 July 2015

Stars and Planets by Norman Alexander MacCaig

Trees are cages for them: water holds its breath
To balance them without smudging on its delicate meniscus.
Children watch them playing in their heavenly playground;
Men use them to lug ships across oceans, through firths.

They seem so twinkle-still, but they never cease
Inventing new spaces and huge explosions
And migrating in mathematical tribes over
The steppes of space at their outrageous ease.

It’s hard to think that the earth is one –
This poor sad bearer of wars and disasters
Rolls-Roycing round the sun with its load of gangsters,
Attended only by the loveless moon.

From: http://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poetry/poems/stars-and-planets

Date: 1977

By: Norman Alexander MacCaig (1910-1996)

Friday, 5 December 2014

Shoplifting Poetry by Martin Steingesser

We’re in the bookstore stealing poems,
lifting the best lines–
You cop one from Williams,
I stick my hand into Pound.
No one’s looking…
I throw you a line from The Cantos
It disappears in your ear like spaghetti.
We stuff ourselves with Crane,
cummings, Lowell, Voznesensky–
Neruda, Rilke, Yeats!
The goods dissolve in our brain.
Now we move from the shelves with caution.
The cashier’s watching. Can she tell?
Fat! We’ve overeaten.
You giggle. End-rhymes leak at your lips like bubbles.
I clap a hand on your mouth.
You are holding my ears
as we fall out the door.

From: http://randomnoodling.blogspot.com.au/2010/12/poetry-friday-shoplifting-poetry.html

Date: 1977

By: Martin Steingesser (?1937- )

Sunday, 26 January 2014

44. The Lessons by John Tranter

Today broke like a china plate,
rain and cloud, drifting smoke;
tonight fell like a suiciding athlete
or a bad joke.
I went to bed with a startling headache
and was distinctly no better when I woke,
I remained dumb in the company of those
who were happy only when I spoke.

Something new has moved uncomfortably close,
something not previously seen:
a talent for aiming the poisoned dart,
for detecting the touch of the unclean,
for discovering that, in the pure of heart,
there is something unforgivably obscene.

From: http://www.poetrylibrary.edu.au/poets/tranter-john/44-the-lessons-0312064

Date: 1977

By: John Tranter (1943- )

Tuesday, 31 December 2013

Year’s End by Matsuo Basho

Year’s end,
all corners
of this floating world, swept.

From: Stryk, Lucien; Ikemoto, Takashi, Zen Poetry: Let the Spring Breeze Enter, 1977, Grove Press: New York, p. 46.

Date: 1977 (translated)

By: Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)

Translated by Lucien Stryk (1924-2013) and Takashi Ikemoto (?- )