Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Tuesday poem #356 : Nicole Raziya Fong : *EACH DAY ENDING IN GRADATION AND SEVERITY



As though the shores established at the boundaries of memory might be rinsed, disinfected—the sands free of debris, replete. This perfection procedurally marred at the edges. Beyond which a matted logic of sea grass, shells and cigarettes maintains. Systematic.



In the oceanic seeming of continuance,        I lost
my name     salient, [[[[then, in a seeming
vitality of remorse—] each day ending          in discursive vitality        

                             [         beneath your name,
its tenor and sustaining mystery]]]       —each day  within this garden
each day                ending                  in a fearless divide  [[[unresolved, remaining    fully apparent        ] circumstantially forthright, I searched        

          amidst a glazed perpetuity                                                        varieties of disclosure             [[[ in damaged fountains of creation I found ]]] I found there            every lasting notion                            of retrieval,            salience      
                       

through certain dominations of facticity I came to cast a factually determined glance                                                composed only to fade in an emblem of remorse! [ fade along this futurity        ]]]] a deeply decisive anchoring!
For this suffering topic to retrieve itself
  in the resplendence of ongoing hesitancy


deeply withheld…


Nicole Raziya Fong is a poet living in Montréal. She is the author of PEЯFACT (Talonbooks, 2019). Past work has appeared or is forthcoming in publications including Cordite, The Volta, Social Text, Poetry will be made by all!, filling Station & in translation in exit.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Tuesday poem #355 : Chad Sweeney : Simple Poem About Living with Autism in the 21st Century



1.

when I look out
from the porch yes
I see a crowd gathered again
bearing torches a meadow
in the dark the faces
luminous the eyes
luminous and beautiful like everything
to me so bright to feel
lonely for company I go into
the noise smiling and trying
the words hello I love you and welcome
and wheretobegin and thankyou I am
happy to see your face
among the faces this
rope you offer I take it
in friendship


2.

whenIlookoutfromtheporchyesIsee
thecrowdgatheredagainyesbearingtorchesame
adowluminousinthedarkthefacesluminousthee
yesandbeautifuleverythingtomesobrighttofeel
lonelyforcompanyIgointothenoisesmilingtrying
helloloveyouwelcomewhere
tobeginthankIamhappythanktoseeyou
rfaceyesamongthefacesthisr
opeyouofferItakeitasfriendship




Chad Sweeney has published six books of poetry, including Little Million Doors (Nightboat Books, winner of the Nigthboat Books Prize, nominated for Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award), Parable of Hide and Seek (Alice James), Arranging the Blaze (Anhinga) and Wolf’s Milk (bilingual Spanish/English, Forklift Books)—as well as two books of translation, The Art of Stepping Through Time, the selected poems of Iranian dissident poet, H.E. Sayeh (White Pine, with Mojdeh Marashi) and Pablo Neruda’s final book, The Call to Destroy Nixon and to Advance the Chilean Revolution (Marick, 2019). His work has been featured in Best American Poetry, the Pushcart Prize Anthology, Poets and Writers, Verse Daily and the Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day.  He has edited two books including Days I Moved Through Ordinary Sounds, an anthology of poetry and prose by teachers in the national WritersCorps (City Lights) and Monahsetah, Resistance, and Other Markings on Turtle’s Back, Poetry and Prose by Mohawk elder Maurice Kenny (Mongrel Empire Press). Sweeney holds an MFA from San Francisco State University and a PhD from Western Michigan University. He is an associate professor of English/Creative Writing at California State University San Bernardino and lives in Redlands with his partner, Jennifer K. Sweeney and their two little boys. 


the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, January 14, 2020

Tuesday poem #354 : katie o'brien : wasteland



trapped blood
blisters under lace skin
palm pulsing

my temple throbs
bluegrey iodine your
taste in my mouth

hymnlike orlando
hollow in my chest
heart attack, perhaps



katie o’brien is a poet, community worker, queer activist, and Netflix enthusiast originally from St. John’s, Ktaqamkuk, on unceded Beothuk land. a peal of thunder, a moment of (The Blasted Tree, 2019) is their third chapbook. katie dislikes lying, sings a lot, and doesn’t kill bugs.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday, January 07, 2020

Tuesday poem #353 : Alice Notley : Secret


Something I don't want anyone to know
having naturally secrets where you hid some thing
under the ground, mine from myself      But are they
only linguistic, something you don't tell
what can the poem say for example or not, Jocko
he was a guy in my class. animals flowers and rocks
spoken of by humans as if mysterious
Are you mad at me? I could list them over
the last seventeen . . . years . . . my eyes hurt.
Ruefully      Some people I dislike I don't tell others
about. I didn't tell you I live alone to act crazy
blistering winds of malfortune keep oh keep arising
my thought comes from nowhere my mis-
shapen mind my mind I hardly recognize in its
abnormality      who recognizes, of course. I'm
being secretive, but all of this comes from a void
Everything's a secret and if you know so
you can act. The blank thought behind all the rules
you don't let yourself know you follow.
You don't want me particularly; I could ap-
prove of your magisterial complicity in how
"we" "do" "things"      Convince me that you secretly . . .
the throes of opportunity . . . complots . . . secretly
And now I would confess some "weakness"
My problem with the confessional: I'm not a
Catholic      took it with her to the grave. Grave Alice
My secret is that I'm in complete control of my-
self; no matter how it seems; and how I do it, is a secret.



Alice Notley has published over forty books of poetry, most recently Certain Magical Acts (Penguin Books) and Eurynome’s Sandals (PURH). For the Ride (also Penguin Books) is forthcoming in 2020. Notley has received many awards including the Academy of American Poets’ Lenore Marshall Prize, the Poetry Society of America’s Shelley Award, the Griffin International Prize, two NEA Grants, the Los Angeles Times Book Award for Poetry, and the Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize, a lifetime achievement award.  She lives and writes in Paris, France.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan