I keep going back to that word
the French like it trahison the French are partly me
in micro-particular disposition I sing
I’m most fascinated by metaphysical
betrayal and its off-color quarter-tones I mean
I mean it that a bit of matter could humiliate
another like in a beginning when of angels…
No I believe they play me like a winning king but
in a future I know already while scourged
I remember when X and Y made Ted miserable
Until he died? before he died? but that’s before the
time of these poems of my emplacement in the zeros
Do you know that all history’s happening at the same time
and see the future if you scry, gross matter It is 2007
someone dear having died I am on an air-
plane to San Diego and suddenly see blue and orange geo-
metrical formations around the periphery of my vision
both eyes is this part of the poem I’m the singer of
tales of bliss and structure of the universe yet unperceived
Is it built like what I’m talking is it in
fact structured when I write Voices Ross, the dear dead
speaks to me in the kitchen to say he’s happy the dead are
happy I later believe some are sad sometimes, cyc-
lically until they work it out my poems help them
that my poems help everyone that I am re-
structuring whatever this is that is everything so
that nothing’s lost but placed new-pieced into a collage
of the transpired remade into a transcendental richesse
opening of graves gold light burst out: Grave of Light
gravid of light Grave Alice and laughing Allegra
ocean of chaos breaks collage of tones you know
and who I was am and will be come back to me
in an enormous betrayal by who once left heaven
all those wanting to be matter my own body
born no one can understand born no one can com-
prehend how many possibilities we once were be-
fore anyone deceived a rock by breaking it
Ross tell me what You got it he says and what
you’ve kept to yourself is cool but the Fibonacci Series
being no longer how shall we say these irrelevancies
They slide into the collage I say Yeah he says
That on the other hand anything will do any glue
Because I was upset at your death mine eyes did break
not into tears but figments colored particles castle bat-
tlements they call them swim before me collapse
I rise again for I am everything participatory in
the earth world’s illusions this is an homage to Ross
all that exists communicates cry a little, cry
betrayal that there is dying though death the other breathes.
Copyright ©:
Alice Notley
A few random poems:
- Валерий Брюсов – Есть поразительная белость
- My Heritage
- Teenager by Patrick Connors
- Иван Бунин – Ночного неба свод далекий
- The New Path
- Sonnet # 4 by Luis A. Estable
- A Patch of Old Snow by Robert Frost
- Goodbye by Robert Creeley
- Epistle to a Young Friend by Robert Burns
- Of Myself – the Essay and Poems on Myself by Abraham Cowley
- The Highland Broach by William Wordsworth
- София Парнок – Триолеты
- Владимир Маяковский – Добьем! (РОСТА №745)
- For This
- Николай Гумилев – Никогда не сделаю я так
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- On Your Midnight Pallet Lying poem – A. E. Housman
- On Wenlock Edge The Wood’s In Trouble poem – A. E. Housman
- On Wenlock Edge The Wood’s In Trouble poem – A. E. Housman
- On the Idle Hill of Summer poem – A. E. Housman
- On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank poem – A. E. Housman
- On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh Who Is That Young Sinner poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh, when I was in love with you poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh Stay At Home, My Lad poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh Stay At Home, My Lad poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh fair enough are sky and plain poem – A. E. Housman
- Oh fair enough are sky and plain poem – A. E. Housman
- O Why Do You Walk poem – A. E. Housman
- Now Hollow Fires Burn Out to Black poem – Alfred Edward Housman
- Now Hollow Fires Burn Out to Black poem – Alfred Edward Housman
- March poem – A. E. Housman
- March poem – A. E. Housman
- Look not in my eyes, for fear poem – A. E. Housman
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works