Sunday, December 2, 2007

Fall turns into winter, another poem

A nice couple of days--a good mountain bike ride with Jesse (go to bandoftheland.com to see some of his photos, Katherine and I had dinner with Pablo Beth, Aristides and Maria at Pablo's and Beth's with much toasting of Poet in New York. Review copies should go out next week, as will copies to stores. So go in to your local bookstore and start asking (support the local stores)! Or just order on Amazon and get a discount (support your pocket book).

I'm looking forward to the semester winding down. I love my classes, the students, but it's been a long one and I'm looking forward to the break when my focus will be on preparing for two new courses in the spring, Advanced Poetry and Spanish Surrealism.

Another poem from Celia Cruz

from the dead

an inconclusive silence
the tyranny of uncertainty
we live with the knowledge
of our knowledgelessness
and so we place flowers and keepsakes and stones
on graves, at candles, at trees
thin clichés take over thought:
the horseless rider
the sword and outworn sheath
belief and hope
that on the wind will come these voices
which call us to light, a beckoning
the termination of suffering into void
thin
the pause in cycles
the dead waiting in Homeric clusters
for their chance
to drink from Lethe
into forgetfulness
and toward their chosen new life
I wish them not to be reborn
I wish for better than that
some final party
at the end of grief
Hey, says a soul you know
have a drink.
Someone else tells a joke
an old one you’ve always known
and it’s funnier than ever
laughter fills us
an old joke and laughing for eternity
sometimes life was like this
but enough?
over here
another old friend
shows photos
remember this?
you do
an album full
of everything you ever did
that made you happy

3 comments:

jesse said...

Nice poem. You didn't mention my refusal to stop taking photos on our ride, even when you were standing against trees, getting frostbite! I just thought I'd mention that...

Nicole Callihan said...

I like this poem, Mark. Reminds me a little of Kenneth Patchen and those angels with their big ole wings in the aisle. Laughing for eternity--sometimes I imagine that'll be how I go. Few things feel better to me than trying to catch my breth when my brother's telling me jokes.

Mark Statman said...

Thanks Jesse and Nicole. Jesse, it was worth the freezing when you got such good pictures. And thank you Nicole for your comment on the poem. I hope it's a party we all get to go to...