POETRYYYYYYY

[be_themoon]

YOU GUYS. TIME FOR A POETRY FEST! I have poems to rec to you, and you should rec poetry too! LOTS AND LOTS OF POETRY. poetry in comments! poetry in your journals! doesn't matter which, just POETRY. YAY POETRY!

(sorry for the long post - lj cut was not being cooperative, AGAIN)

Portage by John Glenday
We carry the dead in our hands.
There is no other way.

"this dream the world is having about itself" by Carolyne Wright
We walked on
but where was our mother by then? Your lungs
were filling with summer storms, and my eyes
blurred before unrefracted glacial lakes.

1999 by Kevin Gonzalez
If there were an antonym for suicide
we could all choose when to be born.
I would have been born after that day
so I could not remember you.

one paragraph at a time, a poetry by Maya Stein
Whatever it was, you looked up, and the stars
looked close enough to touch.

The Towers of Time by G. K. Chesterton
And she grows young as the world grows old
A woman clothed with the sun returning
to clothe the sun when the sun is cold.

Theories of Time and Space by Natasha Tretheway
Everywhere you go will be somewhere
you've never been. Try this:

Civilization by Carl Phillips
How
eventually even hunger
can become a space
to live in.

Marina by T. S. Eliot
What seas what shores what granite islands towards my timbers
And woodthrush calling through the fog
My daughter.

death (having lost) by e. e. cummings
death (having lost) put on his universe
and yawned: it looks like rain
(they've played for timelessness
with chips of when)

elocation (or, exit us) by evie shockley
she's got great heart, but that gets her where? egypt's always on her right (it goes
where she goes), canaan's always just a-head,
and to her left, land of the bloodless dead.

Lines for Painting on Grains of Rice by Craig Arnold
Love is like velocity we feel the speeding up
and the slowing down otherwise not at all
the more steady the more it feels like going nowhere
my love I want to go nowhere with you

The Day the Saucers Came by Neil Gaiman
That day, the day the saucers came, by some coincidence,
Was the day that the graves gave up their dead
And the zombies pushed up through soft earth
or erupted, shambling and dull-eyed, unstoppable,
Came towards us, the living, and we screamed and ran,
But you did not notice this because

Postage Partum by Nik De Dominic
Around the 1193rd time, the
third year, I stopped crying.
Writing "Do not bend:
Photographs enclosed" is
redundant.

Conversation with Objects by Viola Lee
there are so many things here
that will be forgotten come winter
so many things that will be forgotten

Comments

[caramelsilver.livejournal.com]

I JUST HAD THE BEST IDEA EVER! You know what should have? A ficathon where the prompt is a poem and people has to write fic based from poems!!

there are so many things here
that will be forgotten come winter
so many things that will be forgotten -- How Narnia is that??

We carry the dead in our hands.
There is no other way. -- WOW, just WOW.

[sgrio.livejournal.com]

poetry_wars

[be-themoon.livejournal.com]

hee, that would be fun.

the whole poem of the 'carry the dead' one is FANTASTIC. the last line seriously gives you complete chills.