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malsperanzaShould not be here, but can't resist.
Yesterday was one of Those days when everything was aggravating--stupid meetings, stupidstupid admin crap, veryverystupid deadlines, argh, gah *spits up furball*. Burned enough karma being pissed off to bring me back as a sea cucumber for the next two lives. At 11fuckin30 finally left the office, totally evil, fangs out, hissing green poison etc.
Got to home subway station (yes, the one formerly decorated with interesting wiring). There was a poet in the exit tunnel. Big handwritten sign: Poem $1, Book of Poems $10. I gave him $1 and he said his books were all sold, and so were his single sheets of poems, but I could hear him recite one on the internet & he gave me the url. So I said, Would you recite one now? And he did, and it was lovely, and he recited it like a fire engine running the reds down Broadway at midnight. (And since there were, in fact, sirens upstairs, and it was, in fact, midnight, this was very euphonious and syncretic and whatnot.) Then he gave me his last copy, all folded up from his pocket.
I hope he won't mind my posting it.
Love's Hand
Copyright (c) 2004 Donald Green
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
This dumb emotion,
This ugly emotion,
This untrustworthy emotion,
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
Can you know touch?
Can you know real romance?
Can you know friendship?
Can you know brotherhood?
Can you know yourself?
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
Can you open yourself to possible wound
If you love?
Can you open yourself to possible fall?
Can you open yourself to mockery?
They'll laugh at you if you dare to love.
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
Can you come with love to the world?
Am chastened. At this point I should probably make a charitable donation to the MTA Psychological Welfare Program, because, dude, it is cheaper than either therapy or the bar.
For more Donald Green pomes, and in general a nice website for vernacular poetry: Drunken Boat
Yesterday was one of Those days when everything was aggravating--stupid meetings, stupidstupid admin crap, veryverystupid deadlines, argh, gah *spits up furball*. Burned enough karma being pissed off to bring me back as a sea cucumber for the next two lives. At 11fuckin30 finally left the office, totally evil, fangs out, hissing green poison etc.
Got to home subway station (yes, the one formerly decorated with interesting wiring). There was a poet in the exit tunnel. Big handwritten sign: Poem $1, Book of Poems $10. I gave him $1 and he said his books were all sold, and so were his single sheets of poems, but I could hear him recite one on the internet & he gave me the url. So I said, Would you recite one now? And he did, and it was lovely, and he recited it like a fire engine running the reds down Broadway at midnight. (And since there were, in fact, sirens upstairs, and it was, in fact, midnight, this was very euphonious and syncretic and whatnot.) Then he gave me his last copy, all folded up from his pocket.
I hope he won't mind my posting it.
Love's Hand
Copyright (c) 2004 Donald Green
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
This dumb emotion,
This ugly emotion,
This untrustworthy emotion,
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
Can you know touch?
Can you know real romance?
Can you know friendship?
Can you know brotherhood?
Can you know yourself?
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
Can you open yourself to possible wound
If you love?
Can you open yourself to possible fall?
Can you open yourself to mockery?
They'll laugh at you if you dare to love.
Has love kept you away?
Can you take love's hand?
Can you come with love to the world?
Am chastened. At this point I should probably make a charitable donation to the MTA Psychological Welfare Program, because, dude, it is cheaper than either therapy or the bar.
For more Donald Green pomes, and in general a nice website for vernacular poetry: Drunken Boat
