Category Archives: poetry

Kay Ryan, “Pinhole”

Pinhole (from Poetry Magazine) Kay Ryan We say pinhole. A pin hole of light. We can’t imagine how bright more of it could be, the way this much defeats night. It almost isn’t fair, whoever poked this, with such a small act to vanquish blackness. Comment: “We say pinhole:” we (all of us? humanity? A …

October 28, 2011 – 2:55 am | By ashok | Posted in poetry | Tagged | Comments (2)

“like transparent glass”

1. “The most beautiful bodies are like transparent glass.” This was sitting in my journal and I didn’t know what to do with it, so now it’s here. At first, we think of luminous, youthful skin that plays with light. Our sensuality isn’t always just hormones pumping, though it can feel that way. It is …

October 19, 2011 – 4:59 pm | By ashok | Posted in poetry, writing | Comments (8)

Emily Dickinson, “I knew that I had gained” (1022)

I knew that I had gained (1022) Emily Dickinson I knew that I had gained And yet I knew not how By Diminution it was not But Discipline unto A Rigor unrelieved Except by the Content Another bear its Duplicate In other Continent. Comment: “Discipline unto a rigor unrelieved:” this is a gain? “Rigor” alone …

October 14, 2011 – 3:20 am | By ashok | Posted in dickinson, poetry | Comments (3)

Emily Dickinson, “My Season’s furthest Flower” (1019)

My Season’s furthest Flower (1019) Emily Dickinson My Season’s furthest Flower — I tenderer commend Because I found Her Kinsmanless, A Grace without a Friend. Comment: “Furthest:” this may be the most developed, most isolated, perhaps only remaining flower. The “furthest Flower” is from the speaker’s own season. Our passions culminate in achievements of sorts, …

October 12, 2011 – 1:10 am | By ashok | Posted in dickinson, poetry | Comments (0)

Emily Dickinson, “Did We abolish Frost” (1014)

Did We abolish Frost (1014) Emily Dickinson Did We abolish Frost The Summer would not cease — If Seasons perish or prevail Is optional with Us — Comment: “Did We abolish Frost / The Summer would not cease” – well, duh. Get rid of the essence of winter, that ice-cold hardened covering of life, and …

October 1, 2011 – 3:03 pm | By ashok | Posted in dickinson, poetry | Comments (13)

Ario Farin, “A Labyrinth of Open Space”

A Labyrinth of Open Space Ario Farin (please visit endstation leipzig) The street I lived in was like any street Alive with ivy mapping out the brick And scales that scurry off on ivory feet And chalk-pink houses rising in a slick Of handprints on a ripple of concrete. And I would ride my tiny …

September 24, 2011 – 3:40 pm | By ashok | Posted in poetry | Comments (3)

W.H. Auden, “First Things First”

With thanks to Deandra Lieberman First Things First (from The Poetic Quotidian) W.H. Auden Woken, I lay in the arms of my own warmth and listened To a storm enjoying its storminess in the winter dark Till my ear, as it can when half-asleep or half-sober, Set to work to unscramble that interjectory uproar, Construing …

September 17, 2011 – 1:30 pm | By ashok | Posted in auden, poetry | Comments (12)

Emily Dickinson, “Superfluous were the Sun” (999)

Superfluous were the Sun (999) Emily Dickinson Superfluous were the Sun When Excellence be dead He were superfluous every Day For every Day be said That syllable whose Faith Just saves it from Despair And whose “I’ll meet You” hesitates If Love inquire “Where”? Upon His dateless Fame Our Periods may lie As Stars that …

September 5, 2011 – 1:20 am | By ashok | Posted in dickinson, poetry | Comments (5)

Kay Ryan, “Cloud”

Cloud (from Poetry Feb. 2010) Kay Ryan A blue stain creeps across the deep pile of the evergreens. From inside the forest it seems like an interior matter, something wholly to do with trees, a color passed from one to another, a requirement to which they submit unflinchingly like soldiers or brave people getting older. …

September 3, 2011 – 10:15 pm | By ashok | Posted in poetry | Tagged | Comments (0)

Vera Pavlova, “When the very last grief”

When the very last grief (from Poetry Jan. 2010) Vera Pavlova (trans. Steven Seymour) When the very last grief deadens all our pain, I will follow you there on the very next train, not because I lack strength to ponder the end result, but maybe you forgot to bring pills, a necktie, razor blades… Comment: …

September 2, 2011 – 4:05 am | By ashok | Posted in poetry | Comments (2)