In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
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Under silver wing
San Francisco's towers sprouting
thru thin gas clouds,
Tamalpais black-breasted above Pacific azure
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Hector the Collector
Collected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring. Bent-up nails and ice
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And the Wright brothers said they thought they had invented
something that could make peace on earth
(if the wrong brothers didn’t get hold of it)
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And the Communists have nothing to offer but fat cheeks and eyeglasses and
lying policemen
and the Capitalists proffer Napalm and money in green suitcases to the
Naked,
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I started on my homework
but my pen ran out of ink.
My hamster ate my homework.
My computer's on the blink.
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Here is a doll for you, terrorist
Bloodstained
Which was fondled by my daughter
While she was exploded by the bomb
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In this blue light
I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
...
to the memory of my friend SI-YA-U,
whose head was cut off in Shanghai
A CLAIM
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I feel sad as sadness could be
Cause I'm afraid that one day;
I may not be able to say;
To my grandchildren, why animals deserted our planet
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Great-enough both accepts and subdues; the great frame takes all creatures;
From the greatness of their element they all take beauty.
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Oh, everything looked far
like tiny toy cars
Living things hurrying
Everything scurrying
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When I look down
from the airplane window
I see a map
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He stayed inside her
until the borders opened
beloved Poland.
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To the copulating cats
in the woodshed
now in sunlight
...
a deafening sound
as the airplane flew away
valley of mountain
leaving behind, trail of past
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There was a time I could say no one I knew well had died. This is not to suggest no one died. When I was eight my mother became pregnant. She went to the hospital to give birth and returned without the baby.
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Its quiet graves were made for peace till Gabriel blows his horn.
Those wise old elms could hear no cry
Of all that distant agony—
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Boeing never bowed down,
though families wore a frown,
for the Lion and Ethiopian planes had crashed down.
Investigations revealed, faults in their machines,
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Those melodious sounds
Chirping of birds
Sound of waterfall
Wind passing rustling leaves
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They amputated
Your thighs from my waist.
For me they are always
Surgeons. All of them.
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The blue sky
now under the capture of poems
there birds are flying with the poetic mind
coronavirus in the canvas of poems
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I remember when I wrote The Circus
I was living in Paris, or rather we were living in Paris
Janice, Frank was alive, the Whitney Museum
Was still on 8th Street, or was it still something else?
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Chemical blazed them,
razed them tremendously;
the country is in shocked!
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At last you're tired of this elderly world
Shepherdess O Eiffel Tower this morning the bridges are bleating
You're fed up living with antiquity
Even the automobiles are antiques
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The table was filled with many objects
The wild tribesmen in the hills,
whose very robes were decorated with designs
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The airline ticket officer asks
to the lady passenger,
' what seat are you comfortable to bulk with? '.
The lady replies wiseacrely, '
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I started on my homework,
but my pen ran out of ink…
My hamster ate my homework…
My computer's on the blink…
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Patrolling the streets every night and day
Protecting our livelihood come whatever may
Flying an airplane or even riding in a boat
Throwing a life jacket to keep someone afloat
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Silence is a prayer for hope,
To save me from the agony of despair,
When I'm dangling from the edge of a steep cliff,
Hanging onto the end of a rope,
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I have many designs on you baby
I will be the road you my sign board
I have to make you mine forever
I will be the bullets you my revolver
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Every morning the maple leaves.
Every morning another chapter where the hero shifts
from one foot to the other. Every morning the same big
and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out
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When she first began work on the big jet liners
Ocean-hopping flights made an enviable career.
Technology crafted knife-blades to cut through the sky
So a hundred-ton craft could ride on the wind.
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I will love you forever
Whether you love me or not
If my life is an airplane
Will you be my co-pilot?
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My little child! Remain sleeping in your cradle
Don’t wake up! You’ll be shocked when you discover the ugly side
The pain and the hurts you’ll never bide
The obstacles and the difficulties you’ll never can ride
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Like an airplane, bravely take off,
Reaching your goal, with much passion;
Endure the storm, the turbulence,
The rugged air, and affliction.
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It's fitting to associate this panorama with agate,
That stone which has an inner vista half-revealed.
In order for your eye to peer into those layered veils,
You'll need rapt perception that gauges the gradients,
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It is a beautiful sunny day
And I went outside to enjoy
The breeze carries the fragrance
I watched the melting dew drops
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Their bedroom lay in perfect symmetry,
A mythic stage. The double bed was flanked
on each side by a dresser, lamp and closet.
She'd spout her lines from her side, he from his.
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Oh this Wuhan virus,
A virus so perfidious,
Once crossing a Wuhan street,
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Death is no joke, nobody can laugh at it
Death is not a he or a she, death is an it
Death is different, death comes like a flash
Death strikes. Death is the fastest thing around
...
Marcus Schenker was a hedge fund investor,
I learned about hedge funds when I viewed The Ascent of Money,
Which was PBS yesterday; it opened my eye that’s for sure.
What I saw was criminal not in least funny,
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In the dead of night in the dead of time
the private creatures nibbled, milky under moonlight.
Not a pine needle dropped. A salmon pulse throbbed muted
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Percy had just finished eating.
He was doubled over in pain.
But anyone who had just eaten 4 Double Whoppers with extra onion.
Would have more gas than a jumbo airplane.
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I have seen love in your eyes –
Baby it’s so sweet!
Baby I love you is now
The talk of the street!
...
Love the time
Love the time
Love the time
You have for you
...
Reading your poem was quite a surprise!
Your airplane ticket dates, would you like to revise?
I'm sorry the situation is so terrible,
...
They discuss immortality, truth, honest, pious, religious
They converse regarding heaven and hell
They strangely warn about the punishment after death
No, no, really I don't know what is immortal, truth……heaven and hell
...
Trying to feel normal, not much gain.
A few more drinks should really end it.
The feeling, known and bringing pain,
Was, of course, with zeal, befriended.
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The B-29 superfortress took off at 3: 47 A.M.
from the island of Tinian,
an American airbase in the Pacific Ocean.
It was August 9,1945, a Thursday.
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I made a paper airplane,
In class one rainy day;
My best friend wanted it.
but I let it fly away.
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I have seen soccer players
Shoot goals through
Windows in five story buildings.
Off walls onto an escalator
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There is a move in this country to keep guns out of schools,
And yet our Founding Fathers found it to be a rightful tool,
The Pledge of Allegiance is removed which instilled pride,
We banned the bible but sexuality, students need not hide?
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(composed while flying out of Berlin)
dim street colors
like brown barley rooftops
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Who will stop the crazy exultancy of the divine life am living?
who will stop the ecstasy of the mind am driving?
that the devil decided a ride at the back of my priviledge,
that the evil opted a walk way far the beneath of my knowledge,
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Moving west ward from plains to mountains
Ariel view from airplane's window changes
Ether holds a majestic cumulonimbus above
And a spread of puffed cloud sheet below
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In the early spring, when the sun has become warm
When all the trees have started wearing the green foliage
When the stems and roots grow in opposite direction
To give sustenance to life
...
Above were a few birds hovering
And an airplane passing
My grand-daughter put on her swim dress
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There is nothing that makes me feel
Closer to God than a country scene
A soft and gentle lifestyle
I'll bet you know what I mean
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Flying over the mountains
Soaring over the valleys
The airplane keeps moving
At thirty thousand feet.
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You told me you dreamed of a clear blue sky
And to you it felt like a good sign
But the sky is not the best of signs for me.
I often used to watch the flight of birds
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(After an illness, this is the first semi-poetic thing I've written, so bear with me.)
Caught up in the trip and stomp and whirl of life's multi-tiered dance, we hardly get around to noticing......all of this is an inner vista of the Macranthrope's body----the HUMAN that includes all humans.
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She's watching beautiful skies,
birds singing, closing her eyes.
An airplane passing up on high
she's enjoying harmony in mind.
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An airplane lands
In the house of the brave
Hope increases in the heart of the prey
But the hunter was unleashed again
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Like any other changeling
She was waiting to transform
Waiting for her arms to curl into flaps
Waiting for another set of legs to emerge
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Go make a paper airplane
out of any paper you might have.
Fold it anyway so it will fly
to some far off distant land.
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A remote source of the Nile,
the Kagera River originates in Burundi.
On its way to Lake Victoria it flows
into a steep gorge along the natural border
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A day of writing, trying to clarify myself
to Alysia, myself, Alysia, to the night rain,
trying to hang the universe on the tip of an eyelash
without blinking, pulling handfuls of the stagnant dimensions
...
I started on my homewor
but my pen ran out of ink.
My hamster ate my homework.
My computer's on the blink.
...
We left Little Redfish for Lake Josephus, traveling along the good names — from Stanley to Capehorn to Seafoam to the Rapid River, up Float Creek, past the Greyhound Mine and then to Lake Josephus, and a few days after that up the trail
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Engineers once figured it out
And they are seldom wrong, no doubt.
Calculated on the old slide rule
Once a very useful tool.
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Should i exculpate
These atheist stray dogs, before its late
That barked, resorting with all might
In Jehovah's premises with fury at night
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My mother whose eyes were strained
By a sadness that stained her eyes
With grey and blue hue
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A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the
purple sky. The thrilling scream was as a shrill cry on
the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky,
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You took an airplane again
Looking to be someone else
Do you feel te effect of your shame
When her call rings in your pocket
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High above:
The sheep-cloud being pushed by wind
her cotton tail wandering across the sky.
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161.If brain is a forest of thoughts, which way to choose and go is risky
162.If brain is a garden of thoughts, finding nectar and poison is risky
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More than hundred million of our people,
Live in luxury. The luxury you can't find in any castle,
Of a European country, as the labor law is strict there,
Here in my father's land India, abused are our workers,
...
kneel in front of me with great reverence,
as I am the king of all these nations,
borders removed, races not identified,
languages omitted fear instilled
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The world is freezing
On the other side of the moon.
No one sees the silver trees dying
Amidst the little boys.
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Our dreams come from
The glass tower
Sparkling for ships.
There is an old man
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As you drive across our country
So many things you can see
That set your heart racing
Touching your feelings tenderly
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No more assuming that the days ahead are many
No more wasting hours… because there are plenty
Growing old gives the brain a brand-new perspective
Setting goals into action with a newborn directive
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It seems to be keeping things together:
The fox in the eyes of the girl who isn't even here:
In the playground before the sea:
The only thing that is hiding all of it from her is
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Even when an election doesn't go my way I consider myself an optimist
when all is said and done.
I believe most people would concede…optimism makes life a lot more fun.
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Just five generations
most men will know.
I knew Great Grandfather
by a faded photograph
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Trapped inside a wasteland,
dying inch by inch
Slave inside a rusted heart,
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If my poems are gold -
then let's buy an airplane.
If you are so cold -
I will warm you, Daniel!
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My smartphone is smarter than I am.
It surfs the internet when I'm not looking.
Just a few minutes ago, I picked up
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by Yan Li
(translated by Denis Mair)
1.
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Buster was so impolite.
He loved to take his shoes off during airplane flights.
It might have been alright.
But his feet stank worse than a frightened skunk at night.
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She told him at a certain time to look up into the sky.
The skywriting said I hope you die.
This is goodbye.
He began to cry and sob why, why, why.
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Snow-clad, wondrous, Christmas eve,
Trains take flight, if you believe.
By the window, huge snowflakes fly,
As down below, sleepy towns go by.
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We all here-that cliche:
"It's all Greek to me! "
Here are words you use that
have roots in Greek!
...