Poetry of Other Worlds
The night sky:an avalanche of darkness.The ripening stars:splashes of light filled dust,flying islands of burning souls,frontiers at the beginning of …
The night sky:an avalanche of darkness.The ripening stars:splashes of light filled dust,flying islands of burning souls,frontiers at the beginning of …
The sun is orange-red pumpkin-plump and ripe,as if to prove stardust isn’t inanimate.Clouds pied on the horizon, day’s embers.Crickets fill …
Albert Camus: “There is no love of life without despair about life.”My door opens on the day:The sun rises in …
“…almost as if I’m making her and this poem and my pastup as I go, to help me feel nothinggoes …
Sky’s pregnant blue,golden aurora, gathered, focused.Wildflowers’ colors: magnetic,iridescent, nacreous -footlights in the field.Daybreak is a hologram,the impressionist’s dream, alivein this …
Can I talk about a snake without bringing up fear? or lust?This one is busy catching insects.Pretending not to move,vanishing …
The buzz of ripeningbits of zeroesbursting mineral energyfires the storyto hammer and forge nothinginto sight and sound:visions, intonationsof the eternal.Words …
Downtown’s in a shambles of airwhistling past brick and glass.Herds of clouds rustle over,shadows roll acrossconcrete, steel, macadam,the river of …
“…where candense, straw-strung fleshcry to for its essentialanswering other except beyond,way, way beyond the starpoints resolving into galaxies.” Antithesis, A. …
Is love a reality we made here ourselves – and grief – did we design that? A. R. AmmonsA cliff …