More birds. From The Heat Bird (1983), the book, and from the poem of the same name. More at:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/mei-mei-berssenbrugge
from The Heat Bird / by Mei-mei Berssenbrugge
luminous space in their wings showed against the sky
giving each a great delicacy in turns
More birds. Yes, it’s from Bright Wings again, ed. by Collins. The paintings by Sibley are worth the purchase, too.
from The Birds / by Robert Creeley
I want
to ride that air which makes the sea
seem down there, not the element
in which one thrashes to come up.
For this week’s back-to-work theme, an easy one: birds. This one’s from Bright Wings, the anthology edited by Billy Collins with paintings by David Allen Sibley. Less than eight months to Christmas. 🙂
from Christmas Sparrow / by Billy Collins
breathing there
among the metallic angels, ceramic apples, stars of yarn
Thematically last for the week:Â American poet, writing in the 1980’s, and a woman. This one’s from her book, Instructions to the Double, 1976.
from Cows, A Vision / by Tess Gallagher
The cows were never born. They came
with the land
Another: woman, American, writing in the 1980’s. This one’s from her book Countries, published in 1980. http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/523
from Van Gogh’s Room / by Anne Waldman
green window
red blanket
blue door
And, another American poet, a woman, and a woman writing in the 1980’s. Harvard, Cambridge, The Norton Anthology of Poetry, Atlantic Monthly, New Republic, Japan and a smile as enigmatic as Ms. Sarandon’s. As well, this one’s thematically linked to the previous one.
from Home Movies: A Sort of Ode / by Mary Jo Salter
Another American poet, another woman writing in the 1980’s. This one’s from *my* book, The Gold Cell, from 1987. She and I couldn’t be more different as writers; however, if you look into anything deeply enough, your mind will offer up connections.
from I Go Back to May 1937 / by Sharon Olds
I want to go up to them and say Stop,
don’t do it — she’s the wrong woman,
he’s the wrong man
An American poet who also happens to be a woman and who also happened to be writing in the 1980’s.
from The Dream of the Unified Field / by Jorie Graham
black, shiny, twirling on its single stem,
rooting, one foot on the earth,
twisting and twisting —
As I continue to try to not repeat poets and to not split infinitives (eventually, I will repeat, but, for now, it’s fun to see how many days I can go without doing so) I thought I might try something very loosely thematic. Robinson Jeffers placed keepsakes from around the world in the concrete of the stone pathways, in the tower, and in the exterior and interior walls of the home he built in Carmel. It’s a useful metaphor; so, this week, beginning with today, while building this part of my online home, I will embed some fragments from 20th-Century Women American Poets very loosely linked by the fact that they each wrote poetry in the 1980’s. This one’s from Blood Pressure, 1988. Too, I love to read her reading poems.
from The Last Poem About the Snow Queen / by Sandra M. Gilbert
and they love you
the way the teeth of winter
love the last red shred of November.
Thank you, Forklift, Ohio!  http://www.forkliftohio.com/
from A History of Bodies Reproaching
My child brought me
poison soup, and I gulped it down,
and it was amazing.
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