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The Poetry Appreciation Thread

Posted by rchecka 
Registered: 7 years ago
Posts: 3,554
Status: Instigator
avatar Re: The Poetry Appreciation Thread
September 27, 2011 02:00PM
Quote
Sun Ra

The Endless Realm

I have nothing
Nothing!
How really is I am . . . .
Nothing is mine.
How treasured rich am I
I have the treasure of nothing . . . .
Vast endless nothing
That branches out into realm beyond realm.
This and these are mine
Together they are nothing.

The idea of nothing
The notion of nations
Nation . . . . notion

I have the treasure of nothing
All of it is mine.
He who would build a magic world
Must seek my exchange bar
In order to partake of my endless
Treasure from my endless realm of nothing.



“Lesser artists borrow... great artists steal.” - Igor Stravinsky
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Registered: 7 years ago
Posts: 23
Status: Student
Re: The Poetry Appreciation Thread
September 27, 2011 08:53PM
btw.
Baudelaire is my sheet.

but Benjamin Zephaniah IS a dread poet.

seek him.
Registered: 7 years ago
Posts: 3,554
Status: Instigator
avatar Re: The Poetry Appreciation Thread
October 22, 2011 07:13PM
(An introspective 600th post)

Quote
Prof. Thomas G. Bergin
'tis man who dares assault the sky . . .



“Lesser artists borrow... great artists steal.” - Igor Stravinsky
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Status: Teacher
avatar Re: The Poetry Appreciation Thread
November 04, 2011 10:00AM


Charles Bukowski - A Radio With Guts

it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
it would break the glass in the window
and the radio would sit there on the roof
still playing
and I'd tell my woman,
"Ah, what a marvelous radio!"
the next morning I'd take the window
off the hinges
and carry it down the street
to the glass man
who would put in another pane.
I kept throwing that radio through the window
each time I got drunk
and it would sit there on the roof
still playing-
a magic radio
a radio with guts,
and each morning I'd take the window
back to the glass man.
I don't remember how it ended exactly
though I do remember
we finally moved out.
there was a woman downstairs who worked in
the garden in her bathing suit,
she really dug with that trowel
and she put her behind up in the air
and I used to sit in the window
and watch the sun shine all over that thing
while the music played.



ANOTHER BED
from: Love is a Mad Dog from Hell

another bed
another women

more curtains
another bathroom
another kitchen

other eyes
other hair
other
feet and toes.

everybodys looking.
the eternal search.

you stay in bed
she gets dressed for work
and you wonder what happened
to the last one
and the one after that...
it's all so comfortable-
this love making
this sleeping together
the gentle kindness...

after she leaves you get up and use her
bathroom,

it's all so intimate and strange.
you go back to bed and
sleep another hour.

when you leave its with sadness
but you'll se her again
whether it works or not.
you drive down to the shore and sit
in your car. it's almost noon.

-another bed, other ears, other
ear rings, other mouths, other slippers, other
dresses

colors, doors, phone numbers.

you were once strong enough to live alone.
for a man nearing sixty you should be more
sensible.

you start the car and shift,
thinking, I'll phone Jeanie when I get in,
I haven't seen her since Friday.




Registered: 7 years ago
Posts: 3,554
Status: Instigator
avatar Re: The Poetry Appreciation Thread
November 04, 2011 12:58PM
I love that Radio With Guts, good one.
Love those pics too, good ol' Schlitz.



“Lesser artists borrow... great artists steal.” - Igor Stravinsky
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