Last night’s PACKED #poetryparty house, panorama by Joshua Kristal.
This is me in all my post-performance glory!
I got both of my books signed, I got hugs from Tracy K. Smith AND Philip Levine, oh and I even got...
thorny fingers flick the flesh
and i have thought
iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou
and you’re there but i cannot touch you
i cannot touch you
“This — For the Moon — Yes?” by Carl Sandburg.
from Slabs of the Sunburnt West, published in 1922.
“The Sound of the Trees” by Robert Frost.
Mountain Interval, 1916.
Poem submission by nicedice
Sometimes
i dive into the ocean just to feel the blue.
And i pick the peaches from trees
because i like the sound of separating stem from branch.
I’ll often walk along any road i please
to feel something solid beneath my feet.
And i wonder sometimes what the world does to me
just for the simple pleasures.
Is the breeze because it likes the feel of my hair between it’s fingers?
or the glimmer of the stars because it likes to look down upon my face?
I’m content with the settlement we’ve come to
if that is indeed the case.
I like the blue,
i like the stars and the road,
and i like the simplicity between us,
the world and I.
Nice.
not a huge poetry fan, but this one