Category Archives: poetry

The Nightingale

Posted on May 13, 2013 by

They pipe the music outdoors because– I don’t know why, because money, because we can’t stand the sound of our own heartbeats, or the peepers in the woods on a spring night still so chill the shoppers run from store … Continue reading →

Posted in poetry, wheel of the year | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Spring and All, in the Aftermath

Posted on April 20, 2013 by

When I was 13 and knew everything, when I was jaundiced as only the very young can be jaundiced, I loved T.S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. I loved its ennui. I loved the flowing, imaginative, and … Continue reading →

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marathon monday, boston 2013

Posted on April 15, 2013 by

marathon monday april air crisp as tulips blood on the pavement

Posted in haiku, poetry | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

A few notes about April, National Poetry Month, and related or tangential topics

Posted on April 15, 2013 by

A few notes about April, National Poetry Month, and related or tangential topics: April is the cruelest month because it is neither one thing nor another. Especially in Boston, it is neither the callused braw of midwinter, nor the soft … Continue reading →

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Snow

Posted on April 2, 2013 by

softens the edges of things shows us which way is up settles the earth in her slumber makes us stop and watch because if we hurry through we slip or worse never notice its miracle in single flake or aggregate … Continue reading →

Posted in poetry, wheel of the year

Jamaica Pond after sunset

Posted on April 2, 2013 by

You long for a dark open field– dark skies against the darker land– but you will settle for this, the old pond who spreads always, calm and shining inside its ring of traffic and asphalt Its ribbon of trees bare … Continue reading →

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April on its way

Posted on March 22, 2013 by

the sun the snow the open window

Posted in haiku, poetry, religion and spirituality, wheel of the year | Tagged , ,

Icicle

Posted on March 8, 2013 by

Icicle hangs from the tip of a broken tree joint New growth the red of old blood Snow falls in whispers from the white sky Comma-clatter-rasp of a woodpecker                      and two ravens (first draft: Jan 8, 2011)

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Bring me

Posted on March 1, 2013 by

Bring me flowers, because flowers die and have to be brought again and again Bring me a stone for which no blood was spilled Bring me cat food, and five grapefruit you bought for five dollars at the grocer’s Bring … Continue reading →

Posted in gender and sexuality, my glamorous life, poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

How to bear a workshop

Posted on February 19, 2013 by

I had a wonderful 10-minute conversation with the teacher of the workshop I started attending late last summer. We spoke largely about how difficult it is to bear listening to criticism of one’s own work — how hard it is … Continue reading →

Posted in my glamorous life, poetry, writing | 8 Comments