My poem about expiring, “LA Confidences,” is a semi-finalist for Flatmancrooked’s Poetry Prize, and will be published in the Flatmancrooked Volume of Contemporary Poetics along with the 44 other semi-finalists plus a few well-known poets like Li-Young Lee, Eleni Sikelianos, and Forrest Gander. I am beside myself, and so happy for ana c.‘s original inspiration.
Posts Tagged ‘Moon’
Redheaded wife
In Art, History, Prose on February 3, 2010 at 6:24 amOut of nowhere, the beautiful Chinese girl walked into his life . . . just as the redheaded wife walked out
Remember when almost every print magazine contained good literature? Me neither, but here is Moon Over Manhattan, by Pearl S. Buck, in McCall’s in 1953. The superb illustration reminds me of what Marty D. Ison does for Smokelong Quarterly today.
In spite of man, he crumbles
In Philosophy, Poetry, Universe on October 11, 2009 at 2:37 amSong of Solomon 6:10 Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?
So
In Art, Poetry, Religion on September 22, 2009 at 5:59 pmWhy Are Your Poems So Dark?
Linda Pastan
Isn’t the moon dark too,
most of the time?
And doesn’t the white page
seem unfinished
without the dark stain
of alphabets?
When God demanded light,
he didn’t banish darkness.
Instead he invented
ebony and crows
and that small mole
on your left cheekbone.
Or did you mean to ask
“Why are you sad so often?”
Soft white
In Art, Philosophy, Poetry on September 17, 2009 at 1:13 amAm I an animal
able to distinquish
beams of light
like music this moonlit night
eyes closed
–Mizuhara Shion (trans. Hiroaki Sato)
Breaking my heart, shrinking my head
In Art, Confessional, Music on August 24, 2009 at 10:25 pmListening to Miniature Tigers today:
Heavy is the crown
In Confessional, Household, Universe on July 21, 2009 at 12:06 amA woman’s hair is her crowning glory, my grandmother always said.
She also once told me she felt like she was drowning. We had been washing dishes together in silence, her hands wrist-deep in suds. I placed the plate I’d been drying in the rack and leaned over the sink on tiptoe to look out the window at the star-speckled sky. Searched for the Milky Way, scanned for the moon.
Crescent Earth
In History, Music, Universe on July 5, 2009 at 11:25 pmthis post dedicated to Crispin Best, who is interested in and sad about the moon.







