A stump in the forest
is like a gap in a
wedding party photo
where they photoshopped
out a renegade relative,
but forgot to erase
the person's loafers.
Stumped [Free Verse]
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Tag Archives: Vers Libre
Information Boneyard [Free Verse]
The Information Age
bloomed & died
from wave after wave
of information inflation
and counterfeit information -
cheap knockoffs flooded
the market!
We live in a
post-information world:
an information junkyard,
to be precise.
Rusting, useless detritus
poses as treasure.
We catch glints
and think it value,
But even turds can glitter
in the Sun.
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Candles [Free Verse]
Ancient cathedral:
pews & altar
long gone.
Cold air creeps
through cracks
to flicker candles,
Candles lit for
those long dead —
though long remembered —
on a cold, winter day.
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BOOKS: “The Suppressed Poems of Ernest Hemingway”
The suppressed poems by Ernest HemingwayMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Available online – Public Domain
I read this book because my curiosity was piqued by a reference to poems Hemingway published in Der Querschnitt, a reference that was made in a biography of Hemingway I’ve been reading recently (Forty-Three Ways of Looking at Hemingway by Jeffrey Meyers.) Five of the seventeen poems in the book are from Der Querschnitt. (Ten of the poems were published in a book entitled Three Stories and Ten Poems and a couple are odds and ends.)
The Der Quershnitt pieces are bawdy by 1920’s standards, though not particularly for today. The other poems can be a bit intense, dealing in subjects like death in war (Champs D’Honneur,) suicide (Montparnasse, and a curse upon literary critics (Valentine,) but tend to be a bit more refined (excepting Valentine. which may be the least elevated of the collected poems.)
The poems include a mix of lyric, free verse, and prose poem, though all are fairly short (the longest, The Soul of Spain, fits in three pages.)
My favorite was a short lyric poem entitled The Age Demanded, which considers the paradox of the 1920’s as a progressive age, restrained. I also found T. Roosevelt to be fascinating because in the act of critiquing Teddy Roosevelt, Hemingway (wittingly or not) gives us a bit of autobiography. (i.e.“And all the legends that he started in his life // Live on and prosper, // Unhampered now by his existence.”)
I give Hemingway more credit for saying interesting things by virtue of being bold than for saying anything in a particularly interesting way, but it’s enough to make these poems worth reading.
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A Space Between [Free Verse]
The space between
this & that,
us & them,
then & now,
now & later.
The pregnant pause —
a pause without cause —
Just senseless nothing
in between.
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BOOK: “The Ruins” by Ye Hui [Trans. by Dong Li]
The Ruins: Poems by Hui YeMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Publisher Site — Deep Vellum
This is a Chinese-English bilingual edition of Ye Hui’s first poetry collection. The poems use stark imagery with occasional instances of philosophizing and surreal statements to create a vivid and provocative set of poems.
As I’m learning Chinese, it was nice to have the original poems in Simplified Chinese script next to the English translations. While I’m not up to a reading level sufficient to taking on Modern Poetry (any poetry for that matter,) it was useful to peruse the Chinese text. I did appreciate how much vibrance the author wrings out of a relatively simple vocabulary.
I’d highly recommend this collection for poetry readers.
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Gray [Free Verse]
The sky is gray.
The lake is gray.
The city beyond is gray.
Once so big,
The city is now small,
And I fear fog
Might erase it.
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Lantern [Free Verse]
The lightbulb inside
A temple lantern
Shines like the sun:
Backdrop to painted
Branch & blossom...
But the fact that it's lit
Means that it must be
The moon.
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Hills of Tranquility [Free Verse]
Stony hills
Blanketed in green;
Softened -
Yet still hard.
Silent -
Yet riotous
As wind buffets
My face when I
Speed past.
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“Upon the Road of My Life” by Stephen Crane [w/ Audio]
Upon the road of my life,
Passed me many fair creatures,
Clothed all in white, and radiant.
To one, finally, I made speech:
“Who art thou?”
But she, like the others,
Kept cowled her face,
And answered in haste, anxiously,
“I am good deed, forsooth;
You have often seen me.”
“Not uncowled,” I made reply.
And with rash and strong hand,
Though she resisted,
I drew away the veil
And gazed at the features of vanity.
She, shamefaced, went on;
And after I had mused a time,
I said of myself,
“Fool!”
