Category: poems
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The Naval of the Earth
The solid Earth was born not so long ago,Then, footholds were submerged in burning seas.Those seas were not calm then, in rage, they flowAnd around a singular point they flow,Around that forming spike, they tautly squeezeThe heavy waters to a solid peak.Now, the heaving of the sea calmed.And know that the weathering of the peakProduced…
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Secret Knowledge.
I. The water cold, granting lungfuls of air,Borrows mother’s warmthIn its undulas.And in its level does itRaise all fairGrains:Sand grains — low onto yon field of brass. II. Sight ill directed,Along the smooth curvesImpressed on memory. Nay,Mammary,Nay, recollections,Long gone; yet stillServes nervous purposes —PreservatoryOf that quality, whereinThe sclera,That whiteness of the eyesIs captured full.To displaced…
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Ege’nin Meyveleri.
On Ege, the curtain withdraws.Lo: the dramatis personiThey bow, with fruits in hand. ApplauseEchoes from mounds, is dampe’ed by sea.Tarkan, Emel, Selcen, Lena,And Bar’ş bow. Mist cloaks Aegina.Bariş emerges from back of stage,Fore papered dağs and blue-lit skies.He pulls, in good post perch, a page,And guerdons crowd with moral prize.The barking dog and twitt’ring birdWhose…
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Dancing to the Beats of a Wave.
I. Some speculate that the Earth is still,While the sun circumscribes the horizon.Others, in the plurimos molecular configurationsOf water see rotations and vibrations, andShort, jagged displacements of the bumbling bee’s navigation.And the water moves to and fro in its silence.The world — or at least everything in it —Is in a constant state of dance.The…
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The Lost Aegean Droplet.
Water is the first of philosophers, travelingThrough one vessel to another, recreatingItself in the form of man. And one man upon anotherIn the game of checkers, or that of Simon,Wherein we copy and heed that word, expelledFrom the mouth of a confident boy, learning to trustItself for the first time; It is peculiar how powerfulAn…
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Half-angles
On an early warm afternoon of MarchBefore the warmth gives way to the SummerAnd the light and air of April competeI was to snap cutMy rotator cuffsOr tear them,Whatever those thingsWere.Inclined on a rotated bench,Bent back,Supported by itself through contraptionsIn its design,Freeing me to focusOn theDumbbells to be lifted aboveAnd rotated,To enhance front deltoids,Clavicular Head…
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Medica Laeta
Pour, life, your emerald vial,Sift within all the pill-drops, thenHold men ten, and ten for trialAnd see which one wakes up again.On darkened night, eyes lay their lidsAnd in dreams let the fevered rest.Medica laeta by me bidsAnd I in loft her conscience test.In rabid claw, syringe impartsTo strains of lead the end of days.Not…
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To An Iris: A Sonnet.
Quanto minus spei est tanto magis amo. Terence (Eunuchus, I. 1053) Iris, your vague quality draws me near,Thus, Scrutiny calls from the sun-kissed patchAnd finds in you, at least at last, what’s dear,Which, though armed with blades of sight, fails the catch.Iris, none are surprised that your allureHeld me taut, and with mechanical grasp.Suppose then…
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The Touch of the Physician.
ἡμῖν δὲ ἀποδεικτέον αὖ τοὐναντίον, ὡς ἐπ᾽ εὐτυχίᾳ τῇ μεγίστῃ παρὰ θεῶν ἡ τοιαύτη μανία δίδοται. Plato (Phaedrus) The wand of balance tips the scaleWhere man is wont to walk between.Eudemian norms may guide the ailAnd rest us all in pastures green.The mount is hard when low we scale,Yet will those meek in laughter loath.The…
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In Remembrance.
Memories have becomeMy enemy,As I wander, lame,In the greying fields.And though the sight of tulips I endured,Straight a pace, I kept,Lost in the gardens.Where I was found,Another man was thereGazing at the crowd: Of myself,Thousands.Each of themTaking their chances alone;Each in his own separate affairs.The white lily budsBloomAcrid flowers.Where onceJoy I found in the encounters,I…