Am what I am
at 4 a.m–
The same as I was at 1?
After the carnivores of dreams
have digested the memories
of the day
and silently loped away?
Will Kirkland
2008
Archive for the ‘Poems’ Category
Am What I Am
Saturday, April 25th, 2009Lying Awake In the Dark
Saturday, April 25th, 2009Lying awake in the dark
Anticipating lying awake in the dark to come.
Trying to let the body sink
to the cool bottom of sleep
it rises, irresistibly
attracted to the flashing
fears of day.
Will Kirkland
December 2008
Pelicans: A Poem
Saturday, April 18th, 2009Having just come back from a small trip to Big Sur I’ve been finger leaping through Robinson Jeffers’ Selected Poetry. There are many to like, and many to read long, and repeatedly. This is simpler than some and pure nature.
Pelicans
by Robinson Jeffers, 1925-26
Four pelicans went over the house,
Sculled their worn oars over the courtyard: I saw that ungainliness
Magnifies the idea of strength.
A lifting gale of sea-gulls followed them; slim yachts of the element,
Natural growths of the sky, no wonder
Light wings to leave the sea; but those grave weights toil, and are powerful,
And the wings torn with old storms remember
The cone that the oldest redwood dropped from, the tilting of continents,
The dinosaur’s day, the lift of new sea-lines.
The omnisecular spirit keeps the old with the new also.
Nothing at all has suffered erasure.
There is life not of our time. He calls ungainly bodies
As beautiful as the grace of horses.
He is weary of nothing; he watches air-planes; he watches pelicans.
Gypsy Cante: Deep Song of the Caves
Tuesday, March 10th, 2009Work I have done in my time:
A Haiku in Winter
Thursday, January 22nd, 2009A Haiku in Winter
The iced, white fog
rising from the green
of winter in Marin.
The vulture peers, a gash of red,
double black on dripping limb
knows we change in seasons.
Grins.
c Will Kirkland 2009
Winter
Wednesday, January 14th, 2009Leaning back against the tree,
branches and leaves are few:
Ah! A night of stars!
Secretary of State
Saturday, January 3rd, 2009A friend sends this on, his translation of an Oscar Hahn poem from his newest book, “ashes in love.” Hahn is a contemporary Chilean poet. Jim Hoggard is his translator and a poet in his own right.
Secretary of State
You washed your conscience
and hung it up on a line
where the clean clothes dry
But drops of dirty water fell
and formed a pool
and then a muddy river
that flowed out to sea
Through that sea battleships sail
destroyers aircraft carriers
atomic submarines
that spit out radioactive fire
Those who have nothing
have only had their blood to wash
and their wounded to gather
and their dead to bury
