Donald Hall's Collection of Everyday Poetry

I guess poetry( i know alot of people think it's just emotional bullshit expressed through winding words. Screw them then. They don't LIVE) is like an anchor that pulls down to earth all the fuzzy, vague, beginnings of thoughts that cannot be expressed through solid information, and binds them in a universal tongue: feelings and relativity.

I was reading this collection of poems by Donald Hall( a famous American poet) who scourged all the hidden gems from across the country by fishing through magazines and what not.

I extracted some parts from pieces that I really really liked. Here they are:

From Voyage by Suzanne Gardinier

"...I aimed the vessel's battered chin into the fists of green waves without number and did not let the emptiness encumber my loneliness's efforts at creation."

" Of course I'd killed nothing but as i stood barefoot in my own blood, awed,I could not escape the shamed pride of a butcher: smeared withh death,alive, exultant, sure beyond words...

that murder and nourishment are fierce comrades"

From Movie By Patricia Storace

" These dreams framed in the metal of what's real

a silence perfected by voices,

the smoky erotic twilight when the house lights dim

And the world emerges en neglige

And as it moves toward us through gauzy blue,

We glimpse its nudity in the form of stories,

When we live here, everything we want to happen, does

without becoming history."

" To be adult and still unborn is one kind of ideal

Here attention's prenatal, velvet, wall-to-wall

And life's doubled, flesh is flesh's symbol,

A jewel worn on the wrist and in the eye,

Diamond in the day, diamond again in a dream,

The best thing yet we've fashioned from the dark,

these angels of our thought on screen.

We watch them raptly as we watch our dead,

the little candles of remembered gestures lit,

loved features we live by, again and again.

Again.Again."