For the give and take between reality and dreams. In this poem, she is a mime, and it is an imagined glass. #amazonlink to The Best of It: New and Selected Poems by Kay Ryan (p.54) https://amzn.to/3dmuDzn. from "How Successful Can She Afford to Be?" / by Kay Ryan Would she be glad if it left a ring, if she could add to the manifest, passing a thing out of the dream? {important information for you for the #amazonlink: as an Amazon affiliate, I earn from qualifying purchases; all books I link, I own, unless otherwise noted}
Dreams
DPF / Dickey
For Berryman, from The Best American Poetry 1997, editor James Tate, series editor David Lehman.
from The Death of John Berryman / by William Dickey
He loosened his necktie and the recurrent dream
of walking out under water to the destined island.
His mother went over in pearls; his father went over.
His real father went over, whoever his father was.
DPF / Steele
For my west-coast English-comp professor, one who teaches us, in many ways, to remember to love form, and an Angelino with warm memories of Vermont’s frozen embankments.
from Joseph / by Timothy Steele
Vague winds cross, streamingly, its face,
Remote and icy and antique,
And to its light I whisper, Speak.
DPF / Akhmatova
Dreams, war.
from Poem Without a Hero / by Anna Akhmatova
But a dream — is also something real,
Soft embalmer, Blue Bird,
The parapets and terraces of Elsinore.
DPF / Tadic
Dreams, fire, outrage.
from Armful of Twigs, Dream / by Novica Tadic trans. by Charles Simic
Armful of dry twigs
I carry to the fire
through busy streets.
DPF / Hugo
War, dreams, home.
from In Your War Dream / by Richard Hugo
You ask, “Why must I do this again?” A man
replies, “Home.” You fly over one country
after another. The nations are bright, like a map.
DPF / Logan
Mothers and sons. And, ongoing mentor, friend, teaching us, one by one, to dive into the wreck and to grasp something worth bringing to light.
from The Farm / by William Logan
The kerosene lamp had gone out.
There was a ragged Bible in this dream,
open to Isaiah.
DPF / Bishop
Dreams, automated objective correlatives.
from The Man-Moth / by Elizabeth Bishop
Each night he must
be carried through artificial tunnels and dream recurrent dreams.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 