This is Jim Culleny's Typepad Profile.
Join Typepad and start following Jim Culleny's activity
Join Now!
Already a member? Sign In
Jim Culleny
Recent Activity
A Dream Deferred . What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over— like... Continue reading
Posted yesterday at 3quarksdaily
Trust It’s like so many other things in life to which you must say no or yes. So you take your car to the new mechanic. Sometimes the best thing to do is trust. The package left with the disreputable-looking... Continue reading
Posted 3 days ago at 3quarksdaily
The Power of Maples If you want to live in the country you have to understand the power of maples. You have to see them sink their teeth into the roots of the old locusts. You have to see them... Continue reading
Posted 4 days ago at 3quarksdaily
RIP Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Dallas police officers Lorne Ahrens, Michael Krol, Michael J. Smith, Brent Thompson, and Patrick Zamarripa—and all their families. And to all those injured. @ the Crossroad —a Sudden American Poem . Let us celebrate the... Continue reading
Posted 5 days ago at 3quarksdaily
Then Ay Know My Horse Then Ay know my horse, let alive and out of days, hide now paled, hind legs slow to drag, lower head to lift, hoof-split, burred and rough from the dirt. Strange when Ay speak to... Continue reading
Posted 7 days ago at 3quarksdaily
Settling for the Night It’s a custom with my youngest to sprinkle “sleeping dust” over his eyes before closing them, combing the sleep down through his hair and tenderly over his forehead good night, Dad, good night… I listen to... Continue reading
Posted Sep 20, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Q Somewhere (thank you, father) over the hills, through some trap-door in my mind, despite my having no call to speak it, and hearing of it so long ago, I know the Urdu ishq is love. And further, how it’s... Continue reading
Posted Sep 18, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Last Words Splendidly, Shakespeare’s heroes, Shakespeare’s heroines, once the spotlight’s on enact every night, with such grace, their verbose deaths. Then great plush curtains, the smiling resurrection to applause – and never their looks gone. The last recorded words too... Continue reading
Posted Sep 17, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Hashtag There are five more things that must be done than there are lines on my To Do list and the cat just got sick in the family room and the car needs an oil change last week #ineedaclone #needmorethan24hourstoday... Continue reading
Posted Sep 16, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Brahma If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight... Continue reading
Posted Sep 15, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Genetics My father’s in my fingers, but my mother’s in my palms. I lift them up and look at them with pleasure – I know my parents made me by my hands. They may have been repelled to separate lands,... Continue reading
Posted Sep 14, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Image
Don W. in Manhattan —eating the dust of 2001 Dining in Soho alone, a man served by a girl with lip studs, nose ring, and serpent tattoo uncoiling from deep cleavage, sees the new man of La Mancha, in dim... Continue reading
Posted Sep 11, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Middle of the Way 1 I wake in the night, An old ache in the shoulder blades. I lie amazed under the trees That creak a little in the dark, The giant trees of the world. I lie on earth... Continue reading
Posted Sep 11, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
The Association of Man and Woman Whatever badness there was, sometimes was not of us but between us. Because there was goodness, which felt like a sure base. While badness only felt like incidents upon it. The badness was only... Continue reading
Posted Sep 10, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Those Images What if I bade you leave The cavern of the mind? There's better exercise In the sunlight and wind. I never bade you go To Moscow or to Rome. Renounce that drudgery, Call the Muses home. Seek those... Continue reading
Posted Sep 9, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
The Clothes Shrine It was a whole new sweetness In the early days to find Light white muslin blouses On a see-through nylon line Drip-drying in the bathroom Or a nylon slip in the shine Of its own electricity- As... Continue reading
Posted Sep 8, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
The Fear is Real Poetry like some wild horse chained to his stall just ripped out the post & chewed on the links & got free & burned down the barn so he could see the moon dance an irish... Continue reading
Posted Sep 6, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
At Least 47 Shades The goldfinch in its full spring molt. The bee pollen of sticky and thick. The quince to perfume a new bride’s kiss. The ocher yellow in Vermeer’s pearl-necklaced woman. The opal cream floral on a kimonoed... Continue reading
Posted Sep 3, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
The Seventh If you set out in this world, better be born seven times. Once, in a house on fire, once, in a freezing flood, once, in a wild madhouse, once, in a field of ripe wheat, once, in an... Continue reading
Posted Sep 2, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Mornings at Seven Wild geese stir in the early morning calm with the ripple of their wake. Far off, near the shore’s arm of dune that holds the pond, a kayak glides, someone seeking peace and looking up to find... Continue reading
Posted Aug 31, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Sweet Bread It is a terrible struggle she tells me, pulling dough from the bowl. Waking up every morning for sixty-five years, over forty next to him. He says you snore, I offer and she rolls the dough tighter, twisting... Continue reading
Posted Aug 28, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Work my son, who's seventeen years old, rides his bicycle to work in the heat and rain, and his legs and arms are bony and muscled old men love to send them into the smoke and trenches, into the knowledge... Continue reading
Posted Aug 27, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
In Kashmir, it is the boys, [and everyone] —Dedicated to the killed, maimed, blinded, imprisoned, .... curfewed in Kashmir It is the boys, says the government man on the Indian TV who the parents should ask to stay away away... Continue reading
Posted Aug 26, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Middle of the Way 1 I wake in the night, An old ache in the shoulder blades. I lie amazed under the trees That creak a little in the dark, The giant trees of the world. I lie on earth... Continue reading
Posted Aug 24, 2016 at 3quarksdaily
Untitled Mystical? Too clinical. God? The name has been smoked down to a stub. For sixteen years I have ransacked the universe, unsealing files, lifting lyrics, looking for a way to say how it was. Because we have no word... Continue reading
Posted Aug 23, 2016 at 3quarksdaily