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Jim Culleny
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Roy Orbison and John Milton Are Still Dreaming . You know what I mean: In the instant of waking in bliss, the whole body smiles— He’s still alive—She came back—They didn’t mean it— We forgive and are forgiven—It all turned... Continue reading
Posted 4 days ago at 3quarksdaily
Pumpkin Flower . For thirty-three years as a poet I merrily defined what beauty was. Each time, without hesitation I would declare: beauty is like this, or: this is a betrayal of beauty. I went crazy over several different kinds... Continue reading
Posted 5 days ago at 3quarksdaily
From a Balcony The sun is an orange from the Peloponnese staining clouds and stuccoed walls, sailboats tacking out to sea. Damson shapes chase light from under vines; shadows grope their way, thick arabesques of lace furrowed at the frame.... Continue reading
Posted 6 days ago at 3quarksdaily
In Magnolia .. —for my sons when i was twenty five .. we hiked the grass spare trails that snake from ocean to Swan Pond .. my two small crab catchers & me .. we buried pet turtles at sea... Continue reading
Posted Aug 23, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Grief When grief comes to you as a purple gorilla you must count yourself lucky. You must offer her what’s left of your dinner, the book you were trying to finish you must put aside and make her a place... Continue reading
Posted Aug 22, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Chorus of Cells Every morning, even being very old, (or perhaps because of it), I like to make my bed. In fact, the starting of each day unhelplessly, is the biggest thing I ever do. I smooth away the dreams... Continue reading
Posted Aug 21, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
The Miner I dig, I dig beneath the ground. I dig boulders that shimmer like snake skin. I dig beneath Ostrava above. My lamp is blown out, and my hair has fallen sweaty and matted across my forehead. Bitterness wells... Continue reading
Posted Aug 20, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
The Fall of Rome . The piers are pummeled by the waves; In a lonely field the rain Lashes an abandoned train; Outlaws fill the mountain caves. Fantastic grow the evening gowns; Agents of the Fisc pursue Absconding tax-defaulters through... Continue reading
Posted Aug 19, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Recursive More neurons in the brain than stars in the Milky Way— some structure, however tentative— and the fact of other forms doesn’t fail to astound me so much as it renders me speechless, the lawful world incomprehensible, the arbitrary... Continue reading
Posted Aug 18, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Bethel A clear light, at all hours, A girl at reception. And the evangelised Stepping heavenward, up the wooden stairs, Each with his version of Christ, Showing the world a clean pair of heels For Bible, drying out and three... Continue reading
Posted Aug 15, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
We'll Always have CGI Paris . Open on the galaxy, dolly zoom through Doppler shifting stars, leave the local planets in our wake, brush off the Moon and rummage through the clouds to find the crouching continent where Paris piggybacks.... Continue reading
Posted Aug 12, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Late August cloud shreds skid across sandstone cliff face dimmed red to red in an invisible rain . . . mosquito becoming language . . . scratched-off scratch-off ticket moldering in a mound of whacked dandelions . . . to... Continue reading
Posted Aug 11, 2015 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 felt only like incidents upon it. The badness was... Continue reading
Posted Aug 9, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
The Final Change . Being blind, the fundamental thing my sister could not tolerate, was change. If her panic-fluttering fingers, groping ahead in apprehensive search for the familiar, touched something alien, she would halt,freeze, and then begin to whimper softly,... Continue reading
Posted Aug 8, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Death of the Bookstore . “Today,” the eulogist said to the gathering that stood alongside the large wooden box which enclosed the store’s remains now suspended on straps above empty space, “we commit this venture to the ground from which... Continue reading
Posted Aug 7, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Power . this is how we dress power: with whistles and muskets and gunpowder from outriders flashing lights smoked glass windows motorcades titles minus handshakes minus smiles minus sorrow. we dress power like a pestilence. by Chenjerai Hove from Rainbows... Continue reading
Posted Aug 6, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Pasco, Barabara . . I find I am descending in a propeller plane upon Pasco in the state of Washington. I accept this; I have reasons for participating in the experiential sequence that has brought me here. Down below the... Continue reading
Posted Aug 4, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Gathering Mushrooms . As he knelt by the grave of his mother and father the taste of dill, or tarragon- he could barely tell one from the other- filled his mouth. It seemed as if he might smother. Why should... Continue reading
Posted Aug 2, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Hedgehog The snail moves like a Hovercraft, held up by a Rubber cushion of itself, Sharing its secret With the hedgehog. The hedgehog Shares its secret with no one. We say, Hedgehog, come out Of yourself and we will love... Continue reading
Posted Aug 1, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
The First Circle 1. the flat end of sorrow here two crows fighting over New Year’s Party leftovers. From my cell, I see a cold hard world. 2. So this is the abscess that hurts the nation – jails, torture,... Continue reading
Posted Jul 31, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
The Clod and the Pebble 'Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease, And builds a heaven in hell's despair.' So sung a little clod of clay, Trodden with the... Continue reading
Posted Jul 30, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
Thank You Danke, merci, gracias for the heat of the sun, the kindness of teaching, the smell of fresh bread. Diolch, nkosi, shur-nur-ah-gah-lem for the sound of sand, children singing, the book and the pen. Dhannyabad, blagodaria, hvala for the... Continue reading
Posted Jul 28, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
“I carve to the beat of the heart” ................... — Barbara Hepworth From her high window an arc of blue almost Aegean where white gulls circle and mew against a canvas of Cornish light. Below an oasis of shadows palms... Continue reading
Posted Jul 26, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
From a Balcony . The sun is an orange from the Peloponnese staining clouds and stuccoed walls, sailboats tacking out to sea. Damson shapes chase light from under vines; shadows grope their way, thick arabesques of lace furrowed at the... Continue reading
Posted Jul 24, 2015 at 3quarksdaily
The Full Indian Rope Trick There was no secret murmured down through a long line of elect; no dark fakir, no flutter of notes from a pipe, no proof, no footage of it – but I did it, Guildhall Square,... Continue reading
Posted Jul 22, 2015 at 3quarksdaily