Opus Posthumous

One of the poems from my short series on Wallace Stevens. Here we have Wallace returning from the dead. In the category Mining the Library of Babel, if you scroll through, any post with this photo of Wallace accompanying the poem, is also from this series. Opus posthumous I A student fist bumped Wallace &…

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Originally posted on Kvenna ráð:
“All around me the city looked ripe with dying.” John Irving, The World According to Garp. I In summer the houses with yellow lighted windows and open doors pour out music. You think you know her but you don’t. It’s natural at this time of year to admire grace and…

The Psalms of Charlie Malurkey— i

You may remember, though i am sure you wished to forget that i posted sometime ago the Jesus Army Saga, in which Charlie was kidnapped by the Jesus Army (a real organization, church?) & had some adventures before finally driving them bat @#&% crazy & being expelled from their farm/penitentiary. i wrote so many of…

Lullabies

From The Wallace Variations a sort of poetry fan fiction that expands & explores the life & work of Stevens’, imaginatively, so as i might speak with him, ultimately. Lullabies Wallace phoned in the early hours of a sultry August night that soaked the William Morris wall-paper to make summer noises down the telephone an…

Ferry Terminal Soliloquy

Written during my recent crossing to Seoul, of which the previous poems Ikea & Sewol Tragedy are linked. Ferry Terminal Soliloquy The scent of ginseng candy wafts from old ladies’ mouths, rattles their false teeth, lubricates dry tongues & throats with spice. People pointedly serious about schedules & tickets their handshakes warm enough to incubate…

Ikea Soliloquy

i wrote this to stave my boredom whilst inside the belly of the Ikea Leviathan. So this poem has been to hell & back. Ikea Soliloquy The magpies won’t exculpate us even though we scared off all their competitors & they alone occupy the cherry blossom on the brink of renewal — they’d do well…

Travelling Soliloquy

Travelling Soliloquy On a cabinet in the ferry, a porcelain plate painted in blue with a Korean St Christopher type, almost as big as a mountain, crossing a bridge to a house, the door of which he will not fit — who lives in such a house, so tiny & remote? A friend? Prey for…

plenty of work to crack on with

This is an old poem, written when i was in the middle of building our guesthouse & cafe. The sentiment of escaping from teaching was still very immediate & i’ve as of yet, not got around to taking my escape for granted; don’t think i ever will. plenty of work to crack on with plenty…

Boreum’s Fight with the Sea

TSomething a little different, a somewhat mythological piece, though the hero of the poem is a dog, my dog, who you may recognize from other poems of mine. i am sure many of you may know what this is a parody of. Boreum’s fight with the Sea At first the sea retreated. clenched its face…

Guinness Soliloquy

The only poem about Guinness i know is this sonnet i have written, which if it is the only sonnet about Guinness, means it is the best sonnet about Guinness (he says with bated breath & a head full of self-delusion,& stout, haha). Mine’s a pint.   Guinness Soliloquy This white minded dark creature, bitterly…

Power Soliloquy

Been in Seoul where there is a never staunched flood of power in innumerable manifestations; so this poem seems a fitting expression of the contrast in power between city & country, though it doesn’t directly deal with that, this is an abstract expression of what power stands for to me. This sonnet is the closest…