Category Archives: Poem Form
I sit and sew — a useless task it seems, my hands grow tired, my head weighed down with dreams, the parodies of war, the many tired men, grim-faced, gazing upon their kin, whose eyes have not seen death. They’ve … Continue reading
Almost nothing about Emily Dickinson is simple and clear-cut. There are no reasons why. And it is the delicate business of the biographer to explore it all. She herself would not answer any … Continue reading
Compression 1. Ordinary speech permits many sounds. 2. An entire sentence is used, and repeated. 3. All writing, whether we are reading a newspaper or reading a poem, is a series of repetitions. 4. Writers repeat the same thought pattern … Continue reading
At six o’clock we are waiting for coffee, 1 waiting for coffee and cinnamon rolls 2 served from the kitchen 3 — like kings of old, or a miracle. 4 It is still dark. The first bus of the day … Continue reading
–Even losing you, (a joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master, Thought it might look like (Write it!) like disaster. One may own a thing such … Continue reading
My favorite line in the poem is, “I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet needs.” How many quiet needs do we have? Those needs are not spoken in words between two people who are married, they are … Continue reading
Close, close all night the lovers keep. They turn together in their sleep, Close as two pages in a book they read each other in the dark. Each knows all the other knows, learned by heart from head to toes.