There never was the demon I sought in childhood or the dragon, the rabbit I read of in Blyton’s books or the skyscrapers I thought the city had, I’ve found them now in my whittled thoughts.
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For today’s post I offer this exquisite poem “Bicycles” by Paul Hostovsky, first published in Body. If you haven’t checked out this superb literary magazine, please do! BICYCLES Now I would rather remember life than live it. I would rather imagine life than live it. I would rather watch life going on from the…
Here it is again: September 1, 1939, eighty-four years later. Can you picture Auden at The Dizzy Club, that “dive” on Fifty-Second Street, (aka Swing Street) on that terrible day when the Germans invaded Poland and quaked the earth? One of the best stanzas is a metaphorical description of that bar and others like it. Click…
I’ve lost track forgotten more than I’ll ever remember As if it all escaped some imaginary smoke stack Leaving fragments adhering to the sides of the flue That are accessible only by serendipity, not effort You see, I believe I used to know lots of things Don’t ask me anything hoping I might suddenly know…
“Woe to the bloody city! it is all full of lies and robbery; the prey departeth not; The noise of a whip, and the noise of the rattling of the wheels, and of the pransing horses, and of the jumping chariots. The horseman lifteth up both the bright sword and the glittering spear: and there…
Velvet. Of course, they were velvet. That electric silence when they started to part. It was glorious. The curtains beckoned us to other worlds. We were grateful and eager and we walked through. We, the audience, an intrepid newborn community of explorers and optimists. Rarely though, did the film deliver on the curtain’s promise, And…
The not so stranger knows my name, making me pretty promises each day, my muse with no name. I could speak to him but it may threaten to break this chain. The post Not So Stranger | Camille Clark appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
