Question
What are your favorite poems ?
And your favorite poets?
Answer
I have hundreds of favorite poems but I wont list them all brbrHere are somebrbrWhat The Dog Perhaps HearsbrbrIf an inaudible whistlebrblown between our lipsbrcan send him home to us,brthen silence is perhapsbrthe sound of spiders breathingbrand roots mining the earth brit may be asparagus heaving, brheadfirst, into the lightbrand the long brown soundbrof cracked cups, when it happens. brWe would like to ask the dogbrif there is a continuous whirbrbecause the child in the house brkeeps growing, if the snakebrreally stretches full lengthbrwithout a click and the sunbrbreaks through clouds withoutbra decibel of effort, brwhether in autumn, when the treesbrdry up their wells, there isnt a shudderbrtoo high for us to hear.brbrWhat is it like up therebrabove the shutoff levelbrof our simple ears?brFor us there was no birth cry,brthe newborn bird is suddenly here, brthe egg broken, the nest alive,brand we heard nothing when the world changed. brbrLisel MuellerbrbrSex Without LovebrbrHow do they do it, the ones who make love brwithout love? Beautiful as dancers, brgliding over each other like iceskaters brover the ice, fingers hooked brinside each others bodies, faces brred as steak, wine, wet as the brchildren at birth whose mothers are going to brgive them away. How do they come to the brcome to the come to the God come to the brstill waters, and not love brthe one who came there with them, light brrising slowly as steam off their joined brskin? These are the true religious, brthe purists, the pros, the ones who will not braccept a false Messiah, love the brpriest instead of the God. They do not brmistake the lover for their own pleasure, brthey are like great runners they know they are alone brwith the road surface, the cold, the wind, brthe fit of their shoes, their overall cardio brvascular healthjust factors, like the partner brin the bed, and not the truth, which is the brsingle body alone in the universe bragainst its own best time. brbrSharon OldsbrbrbrThe Red PoppybrbrThe great thingbris not having bra mind. Feelingsbroh, I have those they brgovern me. I have bra lord in heaven brcalled the sun, and open brfor him, showing himbrthe fire of my own heart, fire brlike his presence.brWhat could such glory bebrif not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters, brwere you like me once, long ago, brbefore you were human? Did you brpermit yourselvesbrto open once, who would never bropen again? Because in truth brI am speaking now brthe way you do. I speak brbecause I am shattered.brbrLouise GluckbrbrGluck is probably my favorite poet at this time, though I like Neruda, Eliot, and a whole bunch of others.brbrthank you TD for the kind wordsbrbrYou have a wonderful day too.brbrBest,brbrTodd
