Poetry Depot

November 17, 2008

HAUNTED LOAF a poem by Chris McCabe

Filed under: British, European — Tags: , , — razvan @ 3:39 pm

She woke me from a pollen sleep to tell me it would be a day of peace.

These hardships, spoke the sun, give us another chance :
the first bionic sea-creature only made the news
because it got caught in a crab trap.

All that matrix blah of advice – but sometimes
uncles become uncles younger than their nephews.

The Question disarmed us : what were windmills for?
We worked backwards through every loaf we’d ever known
– best of boths, crustless, square – to find the answer.

Outside the democracy of the urinals was a box called

                        DRY RECYCABLES

so with love we clipped the baby’s nails to nano-crescents
to help the gnats believe they could reach the moon.

by Chris McCabe (UK) from Poetry International Web

November 12, 2008

an Anonymous poem chosen by Robert Pinsky

Filed under: American, anonymous — Tags: — razvan @ 7:57 pm

This is the poem Pinsky choose to read and comment for Slate Magazine

 

There was a man of double deed,
Who sowed his garden full of seed;
When the seed began to grow,
‘Twas like a garden full of snow;
When the snow began to melt,
‘Twas like a ship without a belt;
When the ship began to sail,
‘Twas like a bird without a tail;
When the bird began to fly,
‘Twas like an eagle in the sky;
When the sky began to roar,
‘Twas like a lion at my door;
When my door began to crack,
‘Twas like a stick across my back;
When my back began to smart,
‘Twas like a penknife in my heart;
And when my heart began to bleed,
‘Twas death, and death, and death indeed.

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