Tag: poetry
member name: Maura Alia Badji
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June 21, 2006 09:07 PM EDT --
The Photographer's Daybook
In the halloed prism of his camera,
girls lie flat, slim conjunctions,
limbs unpulsed, left luminous--
rush-dry. He develops
wanton . . .
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June 26, 2006 02:21 AM EDT --
Buffalo-bound
Walking through the Albright-Knox
Museum-- waking sleeper in moving
dream picks up the trail left
thirty years before: I find my way,
track childhood's promises. . . .
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June 30, 2006 02:51 AM EDT --
Sweet Revenant for Norma
In French heels, you were film
noir to the neighborhood's two-reel
matinee. Sloe-eyed and languorous
your gaze said I'm not here to stay. . . .
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July 06, 2006 10:45 PM EDT --
Calling Angels
The graveyard glowed
that night, some lost planet
in the moonlight.
Not so strange a place
for tenderness or love. Slow
we walked, no words between us.
Filled the gaps . . .
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July 11, 2006 12:54 AM EDT --
HEROINES
(for Marilyn Mashburn Lewis and Joan Stuart Ross )
Tall women stride, fast
with bright African
hats, complicated
earrings. Quick women:
moving wits, purple
scarves, wide . . .
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June 30, 2006 09:19 PM EDT --
Submarine Blues, International House, Mistaken Identity
My stubborn hair has grown longer since you left for sea;
At night I read the thin blue letters you send to me.
Downstairs Ben . . .
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July 24, 2006 07:39 AM EDT --
A poetic comparison
...and the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers,
is always the first to be touched by the thorns.
Thomas Moore
But he that dares not grasp the thorn
should never . . .
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June 30, 2006 11:27 PM EDT --
Advice For The Newly Beautiful
You won't notice the change at first,
the way people look at you, not
through you. As though studying
the cover of a promising book.
You will walk . . .
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June 26, 2006 09:10 PM EDT --
I Don't Remember Where
I was heading when the biker
hailed me as I walked down the hill
to Main Street, carrying a small Catholic Bible.
I don't remember being on my way to . . .
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July 04, 2006 06:46 AM EDT --
Addiction & Subtraction
for Mateo and Jannala
Trap
wrapped layers
prepared
packaged
Soft escape
No landings
continuing . . .
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June 21, 2006 01:52 AM EDT --
On Saint Lucy's Day
we ate cucia, little brown balls of grain warm with sugar, milk--early December treat to celebrate the Saint of Light. Until Nana told me-- about the eyes. . . .
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June 26, 2006 02:14 AM EDT --
Breakfast
My grandfather's hands, staniatata's hands-- tin-smith's hands,are three times the size of mine. His hands circle the brown and tan mug of sweet black coffee he drinks all day. In . . .
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June 29, 2006 11:32 PM EDT --
Party at the rectory, 1980
End of summer and hadn't we proved
affirmative action worked
as we awkwardly circled the punch bowl,
the line of wine bottles, the greasy snacks?:
2 Brits, 4 . . .
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June 29, 2006 11:43 PM EDT --
Listening For Fish in Poughkeepsie
They hang onto my arms and legs. As we pass the river, five children pull me to water we can't touch or swim, to wave as The Clearwater Sloop . . .
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July 05, 2006 10:41 AM EDT --
A thank you and an explanation
I'd like to thank all those who have offered such thoughtful, encouraging, critical (in the best sense), cogent, deep and insightful commentary on my writing, my poetry . . .
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July 09, 2006 12:43 AM EDT --
Survivor's song
Better to cry
than to tighten your jaw
til your teeth crack
in your sleep.
Better to talk, to tell.
Unshed tears
may sharpen to razor points
as lethal as avenging daggers . . .
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June 19, 2006 12:44 AM EDT --
Beautysick
When I was thin
I bought new lace
underwear by the handful,
push-up bras, sheer hose, red
high heels, tight skirts,
savored feeling insubstantial
skin held fast, belts pulled . . .
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June 26, 2006 10:58 PM EDT --
Lent
Jesus broke my heart
the Easter I was three, left me
unfit for another for years after.
Each night mother lifted me to his
porcelain form--Infant of Prague, miracle
maker, baby boy I . . .
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June 21, 2006 09:13 PM EDT --
Safe Way
She who laughs lasts,
she read aloud from the bumpersticker.
Dried her eyes, afraid hot tears would blur her
edges, sear flesh to flesh. She wandered
aisles of fresh produce, . . .
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July 08, 2006 11:55 PM EDT --
So long, Mr. Nick
for Alfonso Congilosi
Papa, I can't believe
they shaved your white Santa beard,
leaving you blank.
Looking lost, and defenseless
in the velvet of the casket. . . .
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