Yearly Archives: 2018

Tom Crawford – R.I.P. – 1939-May 2018

How to Draw a Better Bird Resist eloquence. Get mad. If your bird is the snowy Clark’s Grebe, if that’s your bird, the one out there sitting on its eggs in a floating nest – stunning bird, serene bird – if that’s all you see, then it’s no good. You might just as well take […]

Lorna Crozier – Her Mouth to the Lion’s Mouth – Next Week, Her Latest Poetry Collection Arrives

FALSE GODS These are the ones who show up at the party, grains of rapture bagged and tucked up their sleeves, heaven’s golden mead in flasks in their secret pockets. They’re everyone’s best nightmare. They sit in the front of the club, stuff the biggest notes in the G-strings of the strippers. At the gym […]

When Poetry Arrives – Neruda and Urrea

Poetry And it was at that age . . . poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when, no, they were not voices, they were not words, not silence, but from a street it called me, […]

Ursula K. Le Guin (1929-2018) – Part Two of a Two Part Series

……something that I think poems do, is observe the world and make it new again. Kevin Young (Poetry Editor of the New Yorker) from The New Yorker Poetry Podcasts, July 27th, 2018. The Small Indian Pestle at the Applegate House Dense, heavy, fine-grained, dark basalt worn river-smooth all round, a cylinder with blunt round ends, […]

More on Ursula K. Le Guin – Part One of a Two Part Series

In class, she said, “We writers are the raw nerve of the universe. Our job is to go out and feel things for people, then to come back and tell them how it feels to be alive. Because they are numb. Because we have forgotten.” In class, she said, “We have forgotten our rituals. Out […]

The Silences That Move Us To Speak – Ilya Kaminsky’s Poetry

Search Patrols I cover the eyes of Gena, 7, and Anushka, 2, as their father drops his trousers to be searched, and his flesh shakes, and around him: silence’s gross belly flaps. The crowd watches. The children watch us watch: soldiers drag the naked man up the staircase. I teach his children’s hands to make […]

When Death Came She Was Ready – A Deathbed Poem by Anna Swir

Tomorrow They Will Carve Me Death came and stood by me. I said: I am ready. I am lying in the surgery clinic in Krakow. Tomorrow they will carve me. There is much strength in me. I can live, can run, dance, and sing. All that is in me, but if necessary I will go. […]

Life: Beautiful or Monstrous or Both? Three Poems by Swir, Mahon and Gilbert

Poetry Reading I’m curled into a ball like a dog that is cold. Who will tell me why I was born, why this monstrosity called life. The telephone rings. I have to give a poetry reading. I enter. A hundred people, a hundred pairs of eyes. They look, they wait. I know for what. I […]

Built to Bend – A Poem by Jala al-Din Rumi and One in Response by Me (Richard Osler)

  Today like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty we love Be what we do. There are hundred’s of ways to kneel and kiss the earth. Jalal al-Din Rumi (1207-1273) from The Big Red […]

A Poem for Andy – Waiting for Surgery on July 12th, 2018

Waiting A sound so loud: a dry leaf falling. The ground littered with yellow silences. I walked here with you once, the Arbutus grove, their leaves dropping and their copper peeling, the new-skin green underneath. New skin. How many times dear Lord our new skin? Each green silence? Richard Osler, unpublished 2018 It is not […]