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Old 07-21-2017, 12:26 AM
RCL's Avatar
RCL RCL is offline
Join Date: Oct 2000
Location: Los Angeles, CA
Posts: 5,161

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness. . .

Still Breathing

To still think words

still on the page
though still are breath
unseen or read

still latent breath
read silently
when lips are still

when said aloud
or recorded
are still still—

still blows my mind!

Last edited by RCL; 07-25-2017 at 12:15 AM. Reason: opened up for easier reading?
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Old 07-21-2017, 01:26 AM
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Matthew Minor Matthew Minor is offline
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Join Date: Apr 2017
Location: Philadelphia Suburbs
Posts: 20

I know one person that,
in the face of this title,
recalls the first bag of dope;
Thank god it's not me.

Last edited by Matthew Minor; 07-21-2017 at 01:28 AM. Reason: who < that here
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Old 07-22-2017, 08:00 PM
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RCL RCL is offline
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Location: Los Angeles, CA
Posts: 5,161

“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?”
― Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

Wishing I could experience the same much more often!

Last edited by RCL; 07-22-2017 at 10:30 PM.
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Old 07-23-2017, 06:49 AM
Adrian Fry Adrian Fry is online now
Join Date: Apr 2012
Location: Wiltshire, UK
Posts: 881

The vertigo of standing,
Planless, at the start of my career,
My future a shimmering dazzle of the possible,
My present, the town before me
An egg for the cracking.
Hold that moment of wild indecision
Not for long. But hard.
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Old 07-23-2017, 09:05 AM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
Join Date: Aug 2016
Location: Boston, MA
Posts: 1,670

Adrian, Wonderful! Euphoric!
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Old 07-23-2017, 03:48 PM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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Location: Boston, MA
Posts: 1,670

Ralph, same here. Shivers up the back of the neck. It's almost all I search for in poetry -- at the very least it has to be present in order for something to come from a poem and into me. Euphoria, if that be the right word, is always in the company of beauty.

Last edited by Jim Moonan; 07-24-2017 at 07:47 AM.
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Old 07-24-2017, 09:13 AM
Graham King Graham King is offline
Join Date: Aug 2012
Location: Fife
Posts: 618

Originally Posted by RCL View Post
Awakening Winds

Sucked dry by drought, my stand of trees
shrieks like maenads crazed with wine
when Santa Ana winds assault.
Their sires and whipping saplings moan
and frenzied limbs pound on my home
for three anarchic days of dance
that cease when twisting crowns bow down.
Inspired by Bacchic spins and tunes,
some trees burst buds to snowy blooms.
I love strong winds and trees that move in them!
I did not understand 'sires'...

Ah, you used the word 'maenad'! ... I enjoy it, it's uncommon.
I always want to ask... is
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Old 07-26-2017, 05:34 PM
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Gail White Gail White is offline
Join Date: Apr 2001
Location: Breaux Bridge, LA, USA
Posts: 3,308

By sheer euphoria-inducing good luck, I have an old poem that just fits here.


Youth gone and beauty never having come
nor money either, whereís it springing from,
this sudden joy? Fine weather and the slope
of green lawn to the bayou, snow-white shape
of heron fishing on the bank, it part
of it. The rest is books and art,
good health, two cats, a marriage going strong
for twenty years, a friendship just as long,
plus writing and the love of what I write.

Summing up joys, I savor my delight:
this is as close as I will ever get
to the mysticís peak of holy self-forget-
fulness, the warrior in his savage bliss,
the loverís ecstasy. Iíll call it this:
a sense of living in a world well-planned.
Is this contentment? Yes. Well Iíll be damned.
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Old 07-26-2017, 06:36 PM
Roger Slater Roger Slater is offline
Join Date: Jun 2001
Location: New York
Posts: 14,155

by Grace Paley

Here I am in the garden laughing
an old woman with heavy breasts
and a nicely mapped face

how did this happen
well thatís who I wanted to be

at last a woman
in the old style sitting
stout thighs apart under
a big skirt grandchild sliding
on off my lap a pleasant
summer perspiration

thatís my old man across the yard
heís talking to the meter reader
heís telling him the worldís sad story
how electricity is oil or uranium
and so forth I tell my grandson
run over to your grandpa ask him
to sit beside me for a minute ... I
am suddenly exhausted by my desire
to kiss his sweet explaining lips
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Old 07-26-2017, 07:37 PM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
Join Date: Aug 2016
Location: Boston, MA
Posts: 1,670

Gail, Roger -- such rich poems of euphoria! Both are mining the same rare contentment that comes through aging gracefully.

Gail, the ever-so-light touch of southern charm in your poem is sumptuous. The convergence of the contentment you speak of -- both the gratefulness of simple things and the acceptance of one's place in the world -- produces euphoria of the highest degree, I think.

Roger, Here is where I want to find myself one fine day - sans heavy breasts and big skirt
But oh, the place she calls "here" is paradise, however fleeting. The final lines are breathtaking.
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