John Berryman and Friend, Minneapolis, 1972

Enough’s enough 

Heraclitus, don’t you go 

Tell me again 

 

I know 

This river is different. 

NB: John Berryman committed suicide on January 7 (Nativity of St. John the Baptist or Forerunner).

Epiphany

We closed our eyes 

And then the heavens 

Opened and we heard 

That unmistakable sound 

Of rain arriving hard on the wings 

Of an insistent wind, 

Our eyelids softly fluttering. 

Drowning in Memories

Undulating, think of an ocean—still, 

No time this time even 

To wave. 

An Otherwise Tranquil Setting

Going past 

A stench, 

Then seeing 

A shining red 

Beetle parked 

Next to some white 

Sheep baaing over screams 

Escaping from the hog farm 

Makes it all so stunning 

You don’t know 

Which way to go. 

Today's Lesson: Building on Experience

What 

Can one learn 

From this wall of numberless black 

Stones surrounding this cemetery? 

Patience. 

In Credible Evidence

Our politicos? 

They’re unerring. Give them something 

To believe in and they’ll plug it 

Full of holes. 

Announcing the Results of Vazambam's Poetry Giveaway Contest!

                            Some rembetika before the big moment. 

 

                             The hand in the hat……………and
 

Congratulations to Elisabeth Hanscombe and Tom Clark! Your copies of Sentences will shortly be in the mail. I also want to thank everybody who participated in the contest—all of you are winners even if you didn’t win this one. 

(By the way, my first girlfriend's name was Jacqueline aka "Jackie".)