Here's something you might be interested in.
Please God
give me a poet
i scrawl it on the foggy shower door each morn
absurdic or acerbic
i don't care
with or without suitable underwear
one of those dreamy beamy smiling idiots found wandering
eyes looking up and out onto the world less harsh
because his thrilling mind has transubstantiated it
with whimsical verse
or"take no prisoner" risk taking emotion
when ever his pen falls to paper
and begins it's adventurist meandering
he can have a blank verse whimsical flair like Thomas Lux
or a torrid but lightly restrained persona like Pablo Neruda
my table and my appetite is set for either lovely beast
i welcome them to my poetic feast so
Please God
send me a poet
by Nan
http://www.sandiegoreader.com/news/2012/apr/04/poetry-i-think-youre-wonderful/
I think you’re wonderful.
I’m driving my car
and your name is on every mailbox.
I’m kissing you
and my shoes crawl away
in darkness, sweet gadgets
sing in my wrists, the life
I dumped into the river years ago
is reported found in the Philippines....
Why do I tell you this?
Because your lingerie
is burning, because a lone drop
of rain is falling somewhere
above the Sahara, because
I think you’re wonderful.
i adore this poem by..Thomas Lux...it just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy...and is exactly the kind of poet i want...Lord help me....hahahahahaha...
i am happy to see he will be doing some readings of his work here at SDSU Scripps Cottage in early April
another that comes to mind is this one by Pablo Neruda
Bird
It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.
Pablo Neruda
and for those of you who want to read community Reader poets more often here's the link http://www.sandiegoreader.com/weblogs/groups/poetry/
Please God
give me a poet
i scrawl it on the foggy shower door each morn
absurdic or acerbic
i don't care
with or without suitable underwear
one of those dreamy beamy smiling idiots found wandering
eyes looking up and out onto the world less harsh
because his thrilling mind has transubstantiated it
with whimsical verse
or"take no prisoner" risk taking emotion
when ever his pen falls to paper
and begins it's adventurist meandering
he can have a blank verse whimsical flair like Thomas Lux
or a torrid but lightly restrained persona like Pablo Neruda
my table and my appetite is set for either lovely beast
i welcome them to my poetic feast so
Please God
send me a poet
by Nan
http://www.sandiegoreader.com/news/2012/apr/04/poetry-i-think-youre-wonderful/
I think you’re wonderful.
I’m driving my car
and your name is on every mailbox.
I’m kissing you
and my shoes crawl away
in darkness, sweet gadgets
sing in my wrists, the life
I dumped into the river years ago
is reported found in the Philippines....
Why do I tell you this?
Because your lingerie
is burning, because a lone drop
of rain is falling somewhere
above the Sahara, because
I think you’re wonderful.
i adore this poem by..Thomas Lux...it just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy...and is exactly the kind of poet i want...Lord help me....hahahahahaha...
i am happy to see he will be doing some readings of his work here at SDSU Scripps Cottage in early April
another that comes to mind is this one by Pablo Neruda
Bird
It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.
Pablo Neruda
and for those of you who want to read community Reader poets more often here's the link http://www.sandiegoreader.com/weblogs/groups/poetry/