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Jim Culleny
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Bridge Builder Bridge-builder I am between the holy and the damned between the bitter and the sweet between chaff and the wheat Bridge-builder I am between the goat and the lamb between the sermon and the sin between the princess... Continue reading
Posted 13 hours ago at 3quarksdaily
The Men Who Wear My Clothes Sleepless I lay last night and watched the slow Procession of the men who wear my clothes: First, the grey man with bloodshot eyes and sly Gestures miming what he loves and loathes. Next... Continue reading
Posted 3 days ago at 3quarksdaily
Now Sing NOW sing: the guards howling beat him with obscenities. ......But he did. His legend is He was singing ...........................Venceremos when they shot him. Even for them, it was too much The killed him, they couldn't kill him enough.... Continue reading
Posted 4 days ago at 3quarksdaily
At 4 in the morning (apologies to Federico Garcia Lorca) . At four in the morning Too soon for birds. Too late for bats. Alone. At four in the morning Too soon for light, Its lying eyes not right. At... Continue reading
Posted 5 days ago at 3quarksdaily
At the Horse Pavilion We lost you once, at the Horse Pavilion, on a day of snappy wind beating five flags above that brilliant nightmare green in the sun and beyond prayer but ready to live on a diet of... Continue reading
Posted 7 days ago at 3quarksdaily
Cafe In that café in a foreign town bearing a French writer’s name I read Under the Volcano but with diminishing interest. You should heal yourself, I thought. I’d become a philistine. Mexico was distant, and its vast stars no... Continue reading
Posted Oct 12, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Ask The Moon 1 Wakeful past 3 a.m. near the frontiers of Nothing it’s easy, so easy to imagine (like William Blake) an archaic angel standing askew in a cone of light not of this world; easy at this cheating... Continue reading
Posted Oct 10, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Forgetfulness . The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one... Continue reading
Posted Oct 9, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
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Destiny They deliver the edicts of God without delay And are exempt from apprehension from detention And with their God-given Petasus, Caduceus, and Talaria ferry like bolts of lightning unhindered between the tribunals of Space and Time The Messenger-Spirit in... Continue reading
Posted Oct 8, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Shaving I am not shaving, I'm writing about it. And I conjure the most elaborate idea— how my beard is a creation of silent labor like ocean steam rising to form clouds, or the bloom of spiderwebs each morning; the... Continue reading
Posted Oct 5, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Mistaken Identity I thought I saw my mother in the lesbian bar, with a salt gray crew cut, a nose stud and a tattoo of a parrot on her arm. She was sitting at a corner table, leaning forward to... Continue reading
Posted Oct 4, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
There is Never Enough Time Above the clouds is nothing but a leprous single star —(B. Brecht) The more I look at it the less I feel. I try to recollect. I shake a distant hand & pay for laughter.... Continue reading
Posted Oct 3, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
The Rain . Rain, and driving thoughts of rain, miles and hours of it, inches and yards of light and dark rain, where seamless cloud has been stitched and gathered into a great undoing of itself, in wind that brings... Continue reading
Posted Oct 2, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
The Hart Crane Connection 1. There’s a connection I’ve made between the overcrowded livestock ships in Fremantle harbour, and Hart Crane’s last voyage. There are death ships steaming for Bahrain with five storeys of corroded sheep yards, the shit spilling... Continue reading
Posted Oct 1, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Roses The house with the nick- and snigger-name Snort and Grunt . Shunned trailer-house, (pocked) scorn-brunt. Side-indented, thorn-bined, boondocked in a hollow. In a green-holler clamber-mire of itch-moss and bramble. Tremblescent ditch-jellies, globberous spawn-floss. Drupes of (dapple-clinkling) bottle-glass in trees.... Continue reading
Posted Sep 28, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Jerusalem . When I leave you I turn to stone and when I come back I turn to stone I name you Medusa I name you the older sister of Sodom and Gomorrah you the baptismal basin that burned Rome... Continue reading
Posted Sep 27, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
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Cockspur Bush I am lived. I am died. I was two-leafed three times, and grazed, but then I was stemmed and multiplied, sharp-thorned and caned, nested and raised, earth-salt by sun-sugar. I was innerly sung by thrushes who need fear... Continue reading
Posted Sep 26, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Today I'm Going to Start Living Like a Mystic Today I am pulling on a green wool sweater and walking across the park in a dusky snowfall. The trees stand like twenty-seven prophets in a field, each a station in... Continue reading
Posted Sep 25, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
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. The Last Chapter is The Longest Every door opened and walked through recalls all other doors —that first glimpse of the next room its bric-a-brac reflecting what you knew and how old you were and what style shirt hung... Continue reading
Posted Sep 24, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Land of the Houyhnhnms ........it is what they see done every day, and .....they look upon it as one of the necessary .....actions of a reasonable being. —Swift Here, even crossing the street presents problems: how not to draw the... Continue reading
Posted Sep 21, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
We Are Here we are here slaving for sovereignty by selling freedom into the captivity of patriotism. we are here silent, brainwashed we are here poor, frightened, and angry wondering who is the next torture victim or petrol- bomb casualty.... Continue reading
Posted Sep 20, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
Deeper Often at night, sometimes out in the snow or going into the music, the hunch says, "Deeper." I don't know what it means. Just, "Push it. Go further. Go deeper." And when they come talking at me I get... Continue reading
Posted Sep 19, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
For a Stone Girl at Sanchi half asleep on the cold grass night rain flicking the maples under a black bowl upside-down on a flat land on a wobbling speck smaller than stars, space, the size of a seed, hollow... Continue reading
Posted Sep 18, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
With a Pen A child will come to understand the meaning in their name A tribe will retrace their pathway to the beginning of their totem A people might preserve their culture for tomorrow’s generations A simple prophecy in graffiti... Continue reading
Posted Sep 17, 2014 at 3quarksdaily
To understand war you have to understand that war is a political tool meant to terrorize as well as kill. It's an insanity always claiming some god's sanction—Anon. To Just Nothing This is what the war ended up being about:... Continue reading
Posted Sep 16, 2014 at 3quarksdaily