cross country

for ezra pound.

 

 

 

For that man who drove cross country

with his dead lover propped up next to him

in sunglasses and a pique hat: is it any

different than Pound avoiding verbs?

 

Thank you for those quiet moments

of daffodils on full blast. Thank you

for that sudden stink rising. Thank

you for

 

treetops and birds who shift their

feet counterclockwise then inadvertently

back into branches. For secrets,

kept forever unofficial, I thank you.

Thank you  against those offensive

rushes of substantive replies.

 

Why, doesn't matter now. Only how and when

to stop the engine at the freight train crossing.

I have heard of such silence, of storms beginning,

carking on the flat plains, Kansas; the

carmagnole dance of dust and breeze

 

and like a good contagion colorless,

gesturing, exclaiming the true meaning of life.

Heard the sound of witness, the propulsion

of willful disobedience in the openness of field.

Rivers full of sweet fish. Apple boughs abundant

and contented. What to do with the

 

dying in those decomposing short tales of adventure:

of nature pure and clean,

of all the molds held sacred,

is only by a hero's slanderous memory

to defile.

Reviews

[Tree]

Always appreciated how you pluck a headline, then convert it into a potent artistic-rendition, of something we can all take from... The other thing I was thinking about, is how you squeeze the lives of other poets into your pieces, had to smile when you remind us how Ezra avoided the verb, then compare that to the driver of that car, avoiding his dead lover next to him... Creative, and disturbing all at the same time, this poem was.

Excellent work, d

[writing mojo]

bringing future angles to passing acuteness..Eza would be proud in your for lorn protection mechanism called thought out...excellent piece dana

[Emily B]

i would like to bow my head for a moment of silence, for the poet i wish i was

you've gone and grown again, i can't keep up :)

[W.k.kortas]

The wise Diego has hit on something here, and hit it on the head. What the general run of humanity does is to put some headline or sound bite into a box--it's how we try to make sense of things, after all, by cataloging and categorizing. What you have done here (and there and everywhere, for that matter) is to take the agate headline and make it a lesson for all of us, though not in the form of some single-plane morality play, but by something that works on multiple levels, not preaching and judging, but illustrating. It's so easy to do finger-painting, but a canvas like this is truly special.

[emmajoy]

You have the intelligence and skill of making words echo the master, the mistress and any fine analyst of language!!! How do you do it every time, adapt style, adopt genre, and.. ok, so, adeptly! (Sorry)

I can only assume you've studied, appreciated and admired Ezra Pound because you do such royal justice to his standing. Yet, your own flair and gift flies high as high..

' I have heard of such silence, of storms beginning, ~ carking on the flat plains, Kansas; the carmagnole dance of dust and breeze; ~ and like a good contagion colourless, ~ gesturing, exclaiming the true meaning of life.'

[Corset]

"This lady in the white bath-robe which she calls a
peignoir,
Is, for the time being, the mistress of my friend,
And the delicate white feet of her little white dog
Are not more delicate than she is,
Nor would Gautier himself have despised their contrasts
in whiteness
As she sits in the great chair
Between the two indolent candles."
Ezra Pound

[Cory Barrett]

I have only dipped into poetry in the past few month, although it seems a lifelong partner. This week was my first exposure to Ezra Pound, and after reading this I am excite to read more!