Chicano Poet

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

“Reading Berryman, Collected Poems (not incl. Dream Songs).

I find him hard to read. Not just because of the baroque
syntax and vocabulary, but also the nervous strain, the angst.

This doesn't mean I'm not enjoying it. Just that it's harder
going than I expected. Maybe I've read the Dream Songs
over the years in a superficial way.”

The pot Henry Gould calling the kettle black!


Portrait Of The Hawk’s Rippling Bridge

He had a heart of gold when he jumped,
he had a heart of gold when he jumped off the bridge,

They are left who flee like geese,
they are gone who drink preciseness.

Lines of poetry can not be fooled,
and doubt can not be mistaken.

The sky rose higher,
the bridge endured.

Spit of the snow, saliva of the wind,
roundness of the trees.

"The coalmine was really my father",
she said, trembling yet tough---

daughter of a bird,
daughter of a beast and boy.