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Showing posts from November, 2019
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Today's poem Japanese poet  茨木 のり子   (  Noriko Ibaragi  ) https://bit.ly/2QKtiou https://bit.ly/2rfWby2 (Released in November 2019) Japanese version only https://www.heibonsha.co.jp/book/b480788.html (Released in November 2010) Japanese version only https://www.heibonsha.co.jp/book/b162662.html
Today's poem The white scenery reminds me of the coast at Brighton cliffs. Look We have Coming to Dover! by Daljit Nagra         So various, so beautiful, so new…        Matthew Arnold, Dover Beach Stowed in the sea to invade the alfresco lash of a diesel-breeze ratcheting speed into the tide, brunt with gobfuls of surf phlegmed by cushy come-and-go tourists prow’d on the cruisers, lording the ministered waves. Seagull and shoal life vexing their blarnies upon our huddled camouflage past the vast crumble of scummed cliffs, scramming on mulch as thunder unbladders yobbish rain and wind on our escape hutched in a Bedford van. Seasons or years we reap inland, unclocked by the national eye or stabs in the back, teemed for breathing sweeps of grass through the whistling asthma of parks, burdened, ennobled – poling sparks across pylon and pylon. Swarms of us, grafting in the black within shot of the moon’s spotlight, banking on the miracle of sun: span
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Today's poem I, misreading queen, confess that I can't understand some parts in the book when reading even in Japanese. At other parts, I can understand easily in English. Japanese or English - which is better? No answer to me. Never mind. Someday the fog will go away. I respect both the poet and the translator. From this book 詩は、人が思うものとあまりに違いつづけてきた。そうに違いない、と思ういま、居酒屋の棚が傾く。 - Poetry has continued to differ way too much from what people believe it to be. Yes, that must be it, and just now as I think this, a shelf in the bar tilts. - 胡桃の戦意のために  平出隆 / 中保佐和子 (訳) FOR THE FIGHTING SPIRIT OF THE WALNUT by Takashi Hiraide, translated by Sawako Nakayasu (A New Directions Book)
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Today's poem My poetry chapbook Untouched Landscape (published by Clare Songbirds Publishing House) @book bar in Tokyo
Today's poem Ted Hughes wrote a lot of poems on animals such as 'The Thought Fox'. There is a binary opposition between God and human beings in the poem. Completely different from Buddhism. Theology by Ted Hughes Adam ate the apple. Eve ate Adam. The serpent ate Eve. This is the dark intestine. The serpent, meanwhile, Sleeps his meal off in Paradise-- Smiling to hear God's querulous calling. (from the website of all poetry ) https://bit.ly/2K43j7g
Today's Poem The poem is introduced in DON'T READ POETRY by Stephanie Burt. A Birthmother’s Catechism by Carrie Etter How did you let him go? With black ink and legalese How did you let him go? It’d be another year before I could vote How did you let him go? With altruism, tears, and self-loathing How did you let him go? A nurse brought pills for drying up breast milk How did you let him go? Who hangs a birdhouse from a sapling? (from the website of Poetry Society)
Today's poem The poem relates to Lion and Christianity. Lion is a king of beasts, a king of kings, look on his look, ye, a little tired now, but more dignified before, a sort of God's incarnation. However, he faces his death. The last line in the final couplet shows the divinity of Lion, the Lord. Last glow. The Lion by Mona Arshi How unstable and old he is now. Lion, like God, has snacks sent up by means of a pulley. Although you can never master the deep language of Lion. I am made dumb by the rough stroke of his tongue upon mine. Nowadays I make allowances. We lie together and i hear the crackle of his bones and when I bring myself to open my eyes he weeps, his pupils resembling dark embroidered felt circles. Sometimes I think all I am is a comfort blanket for his arthritic mouth. But many evenings he’ll sit twisted behind the drapery solving my vulgar fractions with nothing but his claws. Lion and I break bread; I tend to his mane and he sets
Today's poem You feel cool, dry wind from NYC, don't you?  Frank O'Hara is one of my favorite poets as well as an art critic. The free verse is about a witty dialogue between O'Hara and the morning sun. He talks to the sun while rubbing the eyes or talks in his sleep. The form matches the content. Crucially, space in right-justified lines represents a poet's drowsing situation or before-wakefulness, as if in lucid dreaming. I like an underlined part. A True Account of Talking to the Sun at Fire Island by Frank O'Hara The Sun woke me this morning loud and clear, saying "Hey! I've been trying to wake you up for fifteen minutes. Don't be so rude, you are only the second poet I've ever chosen to speak to personally                                so why aren't you more attentive? If I could burn you through the window I would to wake you up. I can't hang around here all day."              "Sorry, Sun, I stayed up
Todays' poem Since the workshop with poets and tutors Ian Duhig and Julia Copus, the verse had   been a mystery, for Latin lies at the antipode of Japanese on my language map. A poem 'Nightingale: A Gloss' by Paisley Rekdal triggered re-reading of the verse on Ovid, Heroides XIX, 90. In particular, a part 'Dusk' has an elaborate, refined structure in points of stress, rhyming, and feminine/masculine ending in individual lines. In the stanza of I stand ... , the pace is airy, slow down, then, back to the rhyming triplets and couplet. This finally ends in a freezed state. Delicate beauty. HERO from The World's Two Smallest Humans by Julia Copus https://bit.ly/2BZZrzx