Disclaimer

This blog ran for more than two years with no graphics--and it received about 50 page views. I was advised to add graphics; after seeing the huge public that followed blogs dedicated to homoerotic images, I decided to use that kind. The result was a dramatically increased number of monthly page views, and the number has remained fairly steady. Most of the images were found on the internet; although they are assumed to be in the public domain, they are identified as far as possible. They are exhibited under the “Fair Use” protections of United States copyright law: their function is simply to attract readers to the poems--I receive no economic benefit from them or from the blog. Nevertheless, they will be removed if they are copyrighted and the owner so desires. 1260 x 290

POEMAS EN ESPAÑOL -- 2009: January 8, April 12, August 3 . . . . 2010: January 13 . . . . 2013: June 30, November 28, December 8 . . . . 2014: September 25, November 30 . . . . 2015: July 9, October 22 . . . . 2016: February 12, August 1, December 28 . . . . 2017: March 2, September 5 . . . . 2018: May 10, July 15, November 3 . . . . 2019: August 4, December 5 . . . . 2020: December 1 . . . . 2021: October 12, December 3 . . . . 2022: April 15, June 21 . . . . 2023: January 3, April 2, May 9, June 6.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

THE CLOSET

I'm so far back, I can't hear,
I can't breathe for the musty wool
In my lungs instead of air,
I'm stumbling all over my shoes,
Hangers tangled in my hair,
And I can't see--

Oh, this house is not a home,
But I know what's out there:
It's no place for me.
_
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Friday, May 15, 2009

ONE DEFENSE





In Memoriam
Walton Ellis Mangum



                    Knowing how the desire for love
                    deceives us, passing for love itself,
                    I offer, if I need one,
                    one defense: 

                    Beauty calls for embodiment
                    as music in a man’s mind
                    demands to be heard, being
                    another mode of being,
                    and, in the hearing,
                    another consciousness
                    that we exist. 

                    So beauty, sculpted form in space,
                    or act, or word, 
                    exists to be embraced, to be
                    become— 

                    Or else,

                    O solitary figures of perfection, 
                    moving across our lives 
                    like secret messengers,



                    How the desire for love 
                    can fool us!  Then
                    (and this is my defense)
                    we go around in circles, blind
                    eyes turned inward.



Top image from http://academicnudes19thcentury.blogspot.com/2010_10_17_archive.html 





Bottom image from http://tcaperton.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html
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