Tampilkan postingan dengan label Boston. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label Boston. Tampilkan semua postingan

Jumat, 07 Juni 2013

DOOM

by George Held


Image credit: philipus / 123RF Stock Photo


brought early dawn
to Aurora,
early recess
to Newtown,
early marathon-ending
to Boston
early tornado season
to Moore, Okla,
and lurks
on the outskirts
of your own town:
so hunker down
and pray
it passes by
before it’s
your turn.


An occasional contributor to The New Verse News, George Held occasionally blogs at www.georgeheld.blogspot.com

Sabtu, 04 Mei 2013

CRUEL APRIL

by Judy Kronenfeld





                          after the Boston Marathon, and after seeing
                                the documentary, “Syria behind the Lines”



Crystalline cool days—bougainvillea
spills from our walls like rivulets
outdoing one another, like lavish
manes of brilliant, curly scarlet
tossed flirtatiously by the wind—
and in our yard, exploding galaxies
of snow-in-summer; popped up orange liqueur
poppy cups; torches of white iris…

Exploding fire, and the red ochre of blood

spattered over Boylston Street, as if a dark perversion

of Holi came frenzied through—no playful

faces splashed marigold, indigo,

saffron praising spring—leaving behind shreds

of clothes, glass, flesh…

And in Syria, somewhere, again
and again, convulsed young faces
buried in the chests of older men,
whose hands pull the faces in to blot out
what they’re seeing and their screaming,
so the fighting can go on.

Still in Syria somewhere—opulence
of nets of oranges and grapefruits
hanging above the fruit-juice stands piled
with lemons, carrots, melons? Is there hope
for cool sweetness in the throat—intensities
of blended watermelon, strawberry,
banana, milk, honey, mint—families strolling
in the cooling midnight streets, old men
playing chess on 2 A.M. sidewalks…?
             
On a talk show two broadcasters

argue almost raucously over

whether a newspaper was right

to cut off at the knees a photo

of a man’s legs blasted off below

the knees, in Boston…

And, somewhere, in Syria, again,
and again, a dreamy, peaceful
sweetness sweeps over the bearded face
of a very young man, many times wounded,
many times returned to the rebel lines—
who has already or will join al-Nusra—as he speaks
of his hope to become a martyr.

Here, at home, in California,
where the bougainvillea bursts
in a frenzy of bloom, two friends—a relative,
a poet—dead in the ordinary old way,
of early cancer, of old age.


Judy Kronenfeld’s most recent collections of poetry are Shimmer (WordTech Editions, 2012) and the second edition of  Light Lowering in Diminished Sevenths, winner of The Litchfield Review Poetry Book Prize for 2007 (Antrim House, 2012). Recent anthology appearances include Before There Is Nowhere to Stand: Palestine/Israel: Poets Respond to the Struggle (Lost Horse Press, 2012) and Love over 60: An Anthology of Women's Poems (Mayapple Press, 2010). Her poems have appeared in many print and online journals such as Calyx, Cimarron Review, The American Poetry Journal, Fox Chase Review,  Foundling Review, Innisfree Poetry Journal, Hiram Poetry Review, Natural Bridge, New Verse News, The Pedestal, Poetry International,  Spoon River Poetry Review, Stirring, and The Women’s Review of Books.

Rabu, 17 April 2013

THE AFTERMATH

by Tricia Knoll






At the very finish,
when all the banners fall
and the sirens silence on to home,
legs knocked out from under
holding dear traditions
in our cheers for those who dare
their best and longest and smartest
of what is mammal in us
and human racing
for the joy of wind
in our hair, and the silver blanket
descends, doubling us at the waist,

someone will count
all the ways we hurt
and all that we have lost.


Tricia Knoll is a Portland, Oregon poet who has run three marathons -- each a learning experience of potential and patience. She ran this morning in full sun behind a garbage truck -- and left home the fantasy that she was winning Boston.

Selasa, 16 April 2013

SHARON OLDS, PULITZER PRIZE WINNING POET, BUMPED FROM PBS BY BOMBS

by Alan Catlin


Her book of personal loss,
a marriage gone way wrong,
intense as personal grief can be.

Moving on, recovery, takes years,
if ever; a lifetime, if you are lucky.

This day, Tax Day, Patriot’s Day,
a time of celebration for millions,
the hundreds upon thousands of
people who ran a marathon or who came
to watch as the race is run.

And, Sharon’s Stag’s Leap to be feted
on National TV as well, as it should be,
bumped from the spot by terrorists’
bombs and we all mourn the loss.

Come back Sharon,
come back

we need words that heal.


Alan Catlin has published numerous chapbooks and full-length books of poetry and prose, the latest of which, from Pygmy Forest Press, is Alien Nation.

MARATHON

by James Penha



                                           after Lucian of Samosata

Philippides, who could run all day
reported the Marathon victory
to the judges awaiting the outcome,
saying, ‘Rejoice, we have won,’
and saying this, died
at the same time as his report,
expiring with the salutation.


James Penha edits The New Verse News.

Senin, 15 April 2013

COPLEY SQUARE

by Becky Harblin


Aftermath of two bomb blasts at the Boston Marathon finish line. Two people were initially reported killed and many others injured.


Red sky sunset
no sailors delight
on this Patriots day.

Healthy bodies trained
for personal bests
hurt by a morass of hate.

We don't know why.

But eventually blame will be laid
and bodies sadly to rest.

And somewhere laurels given
among the sick minds
who glory in their own hate.

We don't know why.

Yet, drums of revenge
are already beating.

We don't know why.
Humans are so small.


Becky Harblin sends with this poem love to Boston and all the runners.