1d
Come near me, you can breathe
You can make a century of me
Feel and decrease my any years
Brittle, hung, and brittle spheres
A crystalline commingle, come apart
“The Old Masters Are Gone”
Mares a voice from without
Me. And no touch and about
No others as old nor as devout
Brittle hinge; a brittle mount
A systemic expression with a heart
“We Are All Now Divine”
Lost, not— lost! We are calm
You may make a history, our psalm
See, and have faith new figures will rise,
Brittle. Bring too, brittle guise
In pretending your eyes pay care in-carte
“Lay Your Hands On Paracelsus”
Can’t you smell the reliquaire?
Like quarry-skin stitched, sitting there
Reminding us all of the ancient genes
Brittle making brittle needs
Stay judgments, fear, and the feeling your hearts
“And Bring Them, Brittle, Up To Rest”
You can make a century of me
Feel and decrease my any years
Brittle, hung, and brittle spheres
A crystalline commingle, come apart
“The Old Masters Are Gone”
Mares a voice from without
Me. And no touch and about
No others as old nor as devout
Brittle hinge; a brittle mount
A systemic expression with a heart
“We Are All Now Divine”
Lost, not— lost! We are calm
You may make a history, our psalm
See, and have faith new figures will rise,
Brittle. Bring too, brittle guise
In pretending your eyes pay care in-carte
“Lay Your Hands On Paracelsus”
Can’t you smell the reliquaire?
Like quarry-skin stitched, sitting there
Reminding us all of the ancient genes
Brittle making brittle needs
Stay judgments, fear, and the feeling your hearts
“And Bring Them, Brittle, Up To Rest”
from april 4, 2020
poem from the past a day #24
okay, this is a big one. i'm very proud of this poem
i was desecrating a robert browning book of poetry because i was going through a little bit of good writing block - i couldn't write anything good.
so i was reading "paracelsus" and i just wrote down my own lines in the margins as i went, they came from nowhere. i don't think anything in this poem is actually taken from the words of robert browning, but i was kind of trying to make it a conversation with the quotations.
anyway, there's this picture of robert browning on his deathbed so i was just thinking about conversations with very old people. and i guess i fell into a fixation on the word brittle and everything grew so easily from that.
poem from the past a day #24
okay, this is a big one. i'm very proud of this poem
i was desecrating a robert browning book of poetry because i was going through a little bit of good writing block - i couldn't write anything good.
so i was reading "paracelsus" and i just wrote down my own lines in the margins as i went, they came from nowhere. i don't think anything in this poem is actually taken from the words of robert browning, but i was kind of trying to make it a conversation with the quotations.
anyway, there's this picture of robert browning on his deathbed so i was just thinking about conversations with very old people. and i guess i fell into a fixation on the word brittle and everything grew so easily from that.
(26/Michigan)
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