“Whither,” a poem of wanton love…

“Whither,” a poem of wanton love…

“…yearning that has ever filled her…”

 

 

Whither

 

He the tempter, she the temptress.

 

Roles they never imagined in their separate worlds

   before they chanced to come together,

roles they accept without skill or will to play,

roles animated by the drab constraint of her clan,

and the drear, deadened danger of his career

   in thrall to loveless intrigue.

 

Quickly they see each other as woman and man,

quickly the heat is on them,

quickly they twirl in dance without dalliance,

quickly they know their plight,

awkward in their pauses,

denying the impulse to embrace.

 

At day’s end he faces her, silent,

his desire wantonly on offer,

his smile closed by fear that he will charm her

   into a love that must become a misery in his world.

She faces him and does not speak

   but offers herself with lust she cannot name

      and yearning that has ever filled her.

Her smile awaits his beckoning,

for long moments…

He lowers his eyes in despair, she turns away

   and accepts her failure with no whisper,

no waiting,

no wishing for another chance,

no words to claim him for a love

  that would wither in her world.

 

They give without taking.

They reach to each other

   across an unimagined gulf

      that sears their willing hearts,

they lean to the threshold of desire

   but they do not take the last step.

 

They part, to languish in the limits of their lives.

They learn that heart can be another way

   to spell hurt.

 

February 14, 2016

Inspired by the film Witness (1985)

My poem “Whither” was published January 23, 2018, in my second collection of 47 poems, Seeing far: Selected poems. You can buy it on Amazon (paperback and Kindle), or get it free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2018 All rights reserved.

 

We Were Soldiers Once…and Young

…too much death (book review)

Lt. Gen. Harold G. Moore (ret.)

         and Joseph L. Galloway

click here

In other words: Poems for your eyes and ears with 64 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

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Book review: Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale

Book review: Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale

A bit too much

      of stars, love, and flowers…

 

 

Book review:

Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale

 

by Sara Teasdale

New York: The Macmillan Company 1937 (repr. 1966)

224 pages

 

A modest sampling of Sara Teasdale’s oeuvre goes a long way.

Her poems are sincere, artfully crafted, with genuine passion. If you don’t mind the almost imperative rhyming, so much the better. If you can’t get enough of the dawn, and the starry sky, love ( winning it and losing it), flowers, and Mother Nature, you’ll keep picking up Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale, time after time.

I had to draw the line, on page 74, when I got to “Leaves.” I was bone dry by the time I read:

 “One by one, like leaves from a tree,

All my faiths have forsaken me…”

 

Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) was a lyric poet whose poetry collections were bestsellers during her lifetime. Be that as it may…

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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2018 All rights reserved.

 

Book review:

John Eliot:

The Man Who Loved The Indians

Entertaining, convenient biography

by Carleton Beals

click here

Seeing far: Selected poems with 47 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

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Book review: Poetry as Insurgent Art

Book review: Poetry as Insurgent Art

brains falling out,

and stuff…

 

 

Book review:

Poetry as Insurgent Art

 

by Lawrence Monsanto Ferlinghetti (1919-2021)

American poet, painter, Socialist activist

 

I’m ignoring the Socialist activist thing in Ferlinghetti’s past. It’s really old news and it’s dull news—socialism isn’t and never was a clear and present danger in America, because the debilitating capitalist mentality and reality is entrenched.

Moving on to Ferlinghetti’s poetry: I confess I haven’t read a lot of it. I tried his Poetry as Insurgent Art (2007) and it didn’t leave me panting for more.

Much of Insurgent Art is a collection of one-liners, like “If you have nothing to say, don’t say it” and “Come out of your closet. It’s dark in there.”

Forsooth.

My takeaway from Poetry as Insurgent Art is that Ferlinghetti was in love with his own careless spontaneity.

I certainly acknowledge that some readers may view this work as the outpouring of a driven great spirit. Different strokes…

I think it is the slough of a generous but disconnected artist’s talent with words.

Ferlinghetti said “Don’t be so open-minded that your brains fall out.” Them’s words to live by, I guess…

Here’s my advice to folks who want to imitate M. Ferlinghetti:

Don’t be so open-minded that there’s nothing you won’t write.

Poetry as Insurgent Art is much too ordinary to be insurgent.

Take it from Walt Whitman,

you need a bit of “barbaric yawp” to do insurgent poetry.

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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2018 All rights reserved.

 

My first name was rain: A dreamery of poems with 53 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

Book review: “Bartleby, the Scrivener”

Loneliness beyond understanding…

by Herman Melville

click here

 

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Book review: Spoon River Anthology

Book review: Spoon River Anthology

…or grab a flashlight…

 

 

Book review:

Spoon River Anthology

 

by Edgar Lee Masters (1868-1950)

New York: The Macmillan Company, c1914-1944, publ. 1967

306 pages

 

The reputation of Spoon River Anthology is indisputable.

The reality is a matter for each reader.

This is an exotic but deadened miscellany that tirelessly revisits a few themes. I won’t say there’s no inspiration, but you need a miner’s headlamp to find it here and there.

Many of the folks who are pushing up daisies near the Spoon River just weren’t really terribly interesting people when they were alive.

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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2018 All rights reserved.

My first name was rain: A dreamery of poems with 53 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

 

You’re down to one piece of bread…

…would you share it with anybody?

Book review:

Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging

by Sebastian Junger

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The moor, and more…

The moor, and more…

…a new learning…

 

 

A soft foot

 

As with another eye

   I see the moor,

its quiet folds

   that need no glance from me,

its hues of earth and sky

   so naturally disposed.

 

I step with care,

I stand long moments there

   to feel the reverence of being

      and the pleasure of my spirit

      stepping free of me

and leaving unfamiliar stillness

   in my heart

   and in my mind,

a new learning.

 

I will walk this moor again,

   and fill myself again with calming joys.

 

November 9, 2016

“A soft foot” was published January 23, 2018, in my second collection of 47 poems, Seeing far: Selected poems, now for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle), or free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

Inspired by “The Moor” by the Welsh poet R. S. Thomas (1913-2000). Thomas recounted his passage on the moor—“…I entered it on soft foot…”—when he felt a “…stillness of the heart’s passions…” I imagined a respectful conception of a quiet moor, and a quiet time of solitary exploration and a gift of harmonious perceptions. I was not disappointed. I walked the walk.

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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2018 All rights reserved.

 
As with another eye: Poems of exactitude with 55 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

The “dime novels” in the Civil War

Think “blood-and-thunder”…

click here

 

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The Black Canyon of the Gunnison

The Black Canyon of the Gunnison

the wind song of the canyon…

 

 

The Gunnison River is still doing its work,

   the river never looks up…

     it inspired my new nature poem

 

 

Black Canyon of the Gunnison

 

We tramp ascending trails,

scant footsteps from the canyon rim,

we look ahead and up,

no need for looking down.

 

The canyon stares at us

   with no flutter of interest,

no ripple of welcome.

The canyon needs no rim walkers

   to mark the edge of sky,

it needs no halfling voice

   to make a vagrant echo

      chasing the puny river

         that carves a new bottom each day.

 

We keep to the high line

   of the trampled scuffs of booted feet,

the wizened pine scrub reaches out to us,

not close enough to touch,

but near enough to drop

   the untouched cones that mark the season.

 

We face the nearing sky,

we step round to a new patch of wood,

a turn that mutes the wind song of the canyon,

and we nearly forget

   that we are high above that wild width,

scant steps from that vast space.

 

January 9, 2018

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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2018 All rights reserved.

 

Book review: The Myths of Tet

How people get killed by lies…

by Edwin E. Moïse

click here

As with another eye: Poems of exactitude with 55 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

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