{"id":6201,"date":"2024-03-10T20:59:17","date_gmt":"2024-03-11T03:59:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/?p=6201"},"modified":"2024-04-22T07:35:33","modified_gmt":"2024-04-22T14:35:33","slug":"poetry-night-february-10-2024","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/poetry-night-february-10-2024\/","title":{"rendered":"Nacht der Poesie \/ 10. Februar 2024"},"content":{"rendered":"<h6 style=\"text-align: right;\"><strong>&#8220;Tools of the Trade&#8221; \/ Photograph taken in Robinson Jeffers &#8220;Hawk Tower&#8221; \/ Big Sur \/ Northern California, North America \/ Photo: Bruce Donehower<\/strong><\/h6>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\"><strong>March 10, 2024<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>Dear Friends,<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>Several times each year, the Section has a Poetry Night in which friends and members of the Section read original poetry and in which poetry lovers in the Section read favorite poems, if there is time. Original poetry has the spotlight and priority. We&#8217;re lucky that we have several poets who participate regularly in the Section meetings.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>Poetry Nights occur on Zoom. Some of our poets reside in places far from Northern California.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>The Section also sponsors New Moon Salons. These are evening of poetry, music, conversation, storytelling, jokes and snacks in the style of early romanticism. Since so many friends and members live at a distance, we switched to hybrid meetings for these salons.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Here are the original poems and translations read by the Section poets.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>All original poems are \u00a92024 by the signed poet.<\/p>\n<h6><\/h6>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Susan Koppersmith<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;With Monet, Late in Life&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-1\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susan-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=1\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susan-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susan-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Under a bridge float my many lives;<br \/>\nThey are shimmering pastels.<br \/>\nThey float on still waters.<br \/>\nA willow weeps behind the bridge.<br \/>\nBelow it are memories, lilies that drift.<br \/>\nTheir opened are shimmering in the sun.<br \/>\nBlossoms drift on a mirrored surface.<br \/>\nThe shaded air is listening and remembering.<br \/>\nThe lilies have emptied, they are open.<br \/>\nMy heart is like one of those lilies.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;Late Summer<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-2\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susan-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=2\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susan-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susan-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>&#8220;. . . And here the dark infinitive . . . &#8221;<br \/>\n&#8212; Mark Strand<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>summer has come undone.<br \/>\nroses, mouths open,<br \/>\ndevour the midday air.<br \/>\nLight \u2014 languid and bright,<br \/>\nmoves over the land, while<br \/>\nunderneath in the dark earth<br \/>\nthe soil is moaning, slow tones<br \/>\nas it empties itself<br \/>\nof verdant grass, the fullness of blossoms,<br \/>\nthe heavy-leafed bushes.<br \/>\nsummer has fulfilled itself.<br \/>\nits fecundity is dark,<br \/>\nwith roots intertwining, winding around,<br \/>\nlike a dog settling,<br \/>\npreparing<br \/>\nto sleep.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Nicholas Morrow<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;Love Always Wins&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-3\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Nicholas-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=3\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Nicholas-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Nicholas-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>What will it take to turn the tide,<br \/>\nto quench the fires burning forest and town,<br \/>\nstill the waters ever on the rise<br \/>\nand the wind that ravages the land,<br \/>\nwhile the earthquakes, molten within,<br \/>\nthe ethers, challenged with insidious intent,<br \/>\nthoughts, feelings, and deeds without a master?<\/p>\n<p>Do we really think there is an answer<br \/>\nand hope it will come before it\u2019s too late,<br \/>\ncontinuing to do what we have always done<br \/>\nwhile changing appearances to match the times,<br \/>\nkeeping the same company, habits, and goals<br \/>\nthat brought us here destined for destruction,<br \/>\nor worse, acquiesce without the will to resist?<\/p>\n<p>Do we wake grateful and inspired<br \/>\nfor the opportunities that life brings,<br \/>\nfor the sun that lights up the day<br \/>\nand surrenders to night, sleep, and dream,<br \/>\nfor the beauty of rain, wind, and snow,<br \/>\nfor love freely given in all that we do<br \/>\nwith the joy of knowing each other?<\/p>\n<p>What does knowing mean anyway?<br \/>\nTo give something or someone a name<br \/>\nand define its nature, appearance, and worth,<br \/>\nits uses for profit and gain without recognition<br \/>\nof the soul and spirit from which it springs?<\/p>\n<p>Or is knowing a living relationship, evolving into ever higher states of consciousness?<br \/>\nThis poetry knows! Do you agree?<br \/>\nIt sees with the eye of a lover what matters,<br \/>\nwith the compassion of a creator for creation,<br \/>\nand dances with truth to beauty\u2019s song,<br \/>\naccepting what is and not giving in<br \/>\nto evil, hate, and lie that are on the loose,<br \/>\nknowing love always wins in the end.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;The Rabbit Hole and Time&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-4\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Nicholas-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=4\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Nicholas-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Nicholas-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The mad hatter paces to and fro<br \/>\n\u2013 what to do, where to go \u2013<br \/>\nthe rabbit hole is populated<br \/>\nwith want-to-bees discombobulated,<br \/>\nand Alice is off to bake a cake<br \/>\nwhile the evil queen and wicked witch<br \/>\nmake their move to alter fate.<\/p>\n<p>In an animated conversation<br \/>\nthe hatter evaluates the situation \u2013<br \/>\n\u201cEnter the hole and face the foe;<br \/>\nwhere insanity rules, mad men go.\u201d<br \/>\n\u201cForget the party, cake and tea<br \/>\nand leave Alice to her own demise;<br \/>\nwhat I don\u2019t know I cannot see.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Alice took a pill to make her small<br \/>\nand another to make her tall,<br \/>\nchasing the rabbit, chasing time<br \/>\nand it was all happening in her mind;<br \/>\neven the characters were imagination,<br \/>\nbut you, mad man, have been chosen<br \/>\nto rescue Alice before it\u2019s too late.<\/p>\n<p>Where to begin; what must I know?<br \/>\nThis madness sees what others cannot \u2013<br \/>\ninnocence as wisdom\u2019s greatest joy<br \/>\nand curiosity as destiny in disguise,<br \/>\ntogether all that you need to act<br \/>\nin the reality of the imagination \u2013<br \/>\nRescue Alice and free the world.<\/p>\n<p>Take the pill of consciousness,<br \/>\nentering the field with joyous laughter \u2013<br \/>\n\u201c\u2019Tis a game of chess they say&#8230;\u201d<br \/>\nInspire the queen to rule with honor<br \/>\nand charge the witch to heal all ills,<br \/>\nthen join the party and celebrate \u2013<br \/>\nthe rabbit hole and time will wait.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Dan Davis<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;bridge 3 cathedral grove&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-5\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Dan-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=5\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Dan-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Dan-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>6 x 6\u2019s and 12 x 12\u2019s<br \/>\nacross the creek<br \/>\ntrees raise holy silence<br \/>\neveryy dayahh<br \/>\nday by day raise<br \/>\ngreen, by the sun,<br \/>\nraise like long green<br \/>\nvalleys deep and steep<br \/>\nlay<br \/>\nthemselves<br \/>\nlike<br \/>\nferns like laurel and ivy<br \/>\nlike stripes of mosses<br \/>\ncling their climb<br \/>\nlike roots into rock<br \/>\nor dirt wind like rain<br \/>\nwould have in the creek<br \/>\nor across, too<br \/>\nwashed clear of dirt and green<\/p>\n<p>trees above<br \/>\ntrees below<br \/>\ntrees across<br \/>\ntrees raise silence<\/p>\n<p>like voices<br \/>\nhiyahh<br \/>\nhiyahh<\/p>\n<p>timbers fallen<br \/>\ntrees fall to timbers<br \/>\nredwood creek<br \/>\nbridge 3<\/p>\n<p>every needle<br \/>\never greened, lifted<br \/>\nto and by the sun<br \/>\notherwise<br \/>\ndown<br \/>\ndown<br \/>\ndrifted to<br \/>\nearth<br \/>\nfilled with roots<br \/>\nthat raised<br \/>\nthe needles<br \/>\ngreen<br \/>\ntoo<\/p>\n<p>stretched<br \/>\nstitched stacked<br \/>\ntoward<br \/>\nsky<br \/>\ncell to cell<br \/>\nneedle green<br \/>\nlimb grown<br \/>\nlimb by limb<br \/>\nby needle silent<br \/>\ntrunk<br \/>\nto a tip<br \/>\nto the sun<\/p>\n<p>limb by limb<br \/>\ngreen laced<br \/>\nladder\/needles<br \/>\ntrined to<br \/>\nthe needed sun<\/p>\n<p>bridge to<br \/>\nbright<br \/>\nsun\/silent blue sky<br \/>\ntimbers crashed<br \/>\nout loud<br \/>\noff away<br \/>\nfrom against<br \/>\nthe silence<br \/>\nto<br \/>\nthe laurels ivied among<br \/>\nthe ferns the timbers\u2019 cover<br \/>\nlike the needles on the stem to<br \/>\nits tip the earth takes<br \/>\ninstead:<br \/>\nfog tends well<br \/>\nlike silence\u2019s<br \/>\ndwell<br \/>\nand<br \/>\nspan.<\/p>\n<p>(silence in the laurels ivies ferns:<br \/>\nsilence like a bridge<br \/>\nits timbers too strong<br \/>\nthat ever they could creak(<\/p>\n<p>silence:<\/p>\n<p>for the raven\u2019s caw-call, gloss, gleam and glide (claw will hold) and quickened eye\u2019s-<br \/>\nquery<br \/>\nmore so<br \/>\nfor the fox\u2019s scream at others\u2019 ears (\u2018presence), at night\u2019s darkness, at far stars<br \/>\nspace and fog\u2019s keep hides\u2014<br \/>\nno, not a call, at all,<br \/>\nbut cells open to their existence:<br \/>\na tooth that lets blood<br \/>\ndrown its throat<br \/>\nand claim\/calm<br \/>\nits ruff.<\/p>\n<p>silence:<\/p>\n<p>bears and holds<\/p>\n<p>raven and fox<br \/>\nlike<br \/>\nbough and burrow<br \/>\nlike<br \/>\nthe moist air like the greened warmed<\/p>\n<p>fog to the night belongs.<br \/>\nfog the near ocean spun<br \/>\nits mists needles gather<br \/>\ndrop down dark air<br \/>\nto ivy and fern and laurel<br \/>\nor earth<br \/>\nthe needles\u2019 own roots<br \/>\nlive<\/p>\n<p>fog drifts. night belongs<br \/>\nnight belongs.<br \/>\nmists dwell ladders\u2019 laces,<br \/>\nslickn\u2019d needles mists ally.<br \/>\nmists bonded find dark air below<br \/>\nslice down<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;a poem is a machine made of words&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-6\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Dan-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=6\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Dan-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Dan-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>a poem is a machine made of words<\/p>\n<p>is like an axle<\/p>\n<p>on an<br \/>\norange wheelbarrow<\/p>\n<p>glazed with rain<br \/>\nwater<\/p>\n<p>so much depends upon<\/p>\n<p>like unlicensed<\/p>\n<p>motion like pegasus<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Bruce Donehower<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>A Translation of a Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke \/ Read in German by Marion Donehower<\/strong><\/h5>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"&quot;Forget&quot; \/ A Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke\" src=\"https:\/\/player.vimeo.com\/video\/689752701?dnt=1&amp;app_id=122963\" width=\"1080\" height=\"608\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"autoplay; fullscreen; picture-in-picture; clipboard-write\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><\/h5>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;To the One&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-7\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Bruce-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=7\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Bruce-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Bruce-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>&#8220;. . . it is not the poet&#8217;s business to relate actual events,<br \/>\nbut such things as might or could happen<br \/>\nin accordance with probability or necessity . . . &#8221;<br \/>\n&#8212; Aristotle<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>&#8220;, , , very like a whale . . .&#8221;<br \/>\n&#8212; Shakespeare<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Above the earth<br \/>\nThe star that shines<br \/>\nReminds me that a clever rhyme<br \/>\nOccurs without my fretful mind<br \/>\nHatching plans or wasting time<br \/>\nIn search of some Dead-Poet Shrine.<\/p>\n<p>Instead, a sense of me resigned<br \/>\nTakes comfort in the number nine.<br \/>\n&#8220;Why nine?&#8221; you say.<br \/>\n&#8220;Because it rhymes?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Your question shows<br \/>\nThat in your mind<br \/>\nRhyme and sense<br \/>\nMust always twine<br \/>\nAccording to some<br \/>\nMaster&#8217;s Plan<br \/>\nThat never happens.<br \/>\nNever can!<\/p>\n<p>And so I leave you with this rule:<br \/>\nThe star the shines behind the blue,<br \/>\nBehind the veil of Logos light,<br \/>\nFinds in darkness sheer delight<br \/>\nAnd knows that number nine is when<br \/>\nThe Goddess&#8217; dance begins . . . and ends.<\/p>\n<p>Always shining.<br \/>\nEver new.<br \/>\nAlways sunlit.<br \/>\nNever blue!<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Roger Rindge<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;Gubaidulina&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-8\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Roger-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=8\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Roger-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Roger-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>No, we cannot shelter under music now\u2014<br \/>\nno comfort or refuge;<br \/>\nif you give in that way, the tears<br \/>\nwon\u2019t ever stop. Now, it breaks<\/p>\n<p>through to us from worlds we yearn for<br \/>\nbut are frightened of; the old<br \/>\npaths having been lost for years.<br \/>\nOr if we are to make our way there,<\/p>\n<p>offering up sound, the instruments<br \/>\nwill be edges, swords, borders,<br \/>\npast anything familiar of feeling<br \/>\nor thought; new intention, new<\/p>\n<p>will, on fire with wakefulness. And comfort\u2014<br \/>\nto come back to that\u2014pouring its clear-<br \/>\nshining and upright warmth into places<br \/>\nwe didn\u2019t know could be comforted.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;Gubaidulina (2)&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-9\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Roger-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=9\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Roger-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Roger-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>You fly back and forth over<br \/>\nthe border with fearless ease,<br \/>\nthe sun feeding your plumage<\/p>\n<p>while you feed us<br \/>\nwith nutriment of sound and word,<br \/>\ndropping mysterious keys<\/p>\n<p>to doors we can\u2019t yet conceive of;<br \/>\nand we are still too much on this<br \/>\none side, chasing tones<\/p>\n<p>through deep drifts of snow,<br \/>\nour legs and our heavy shoes<br \/>\nbewildered and inspired . . .<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Peter Rennick<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;The Promise of the Gods Valentine&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-10\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Peter-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=10\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Peter-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Peter-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Clearly the darkness is the light&#8217;s last color<br \/>\nWhere it all gets broken down<br \/>\nAll the colors rushing in<br \/>\nFrom the periphery to blind night&#8217;s<br \/>\nBestrewn darkness<br \/>\nWhere it&#8217;s raining<br \/>\nOn half the earth<br \/>\nAnd on the other half<br \/>\nSunlight pours in<br \/>\nWhere the colors take their places<br \/>\nHaving suffered enough for one day<br \/>\nFloating a bridge across the abyss<br \/>\nHurry or you&#8217;ll miss it<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;At the Abbey Valentine&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-11\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Peter-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=11\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Peter-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Peter-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I assume your world<br \/>\nAs you must assume mine<br \/>\nWe are all caught<br \/>\nIn some glorious assumption<br \/>\nAbout to happen as soon<br \/>\nAs we get ourselves out of the way<br \/>\nTake a breath it could be mine<br \/>\nBreathing my life into yours<br \/>\nI assume the greatness<br \/>\nOf your world<br \/>\nAs you must assume<br \/>\nAll the gratitude in mine<br \/>\nIf we are ever to be lifted<br \/>\nSlowly calmly off the ground<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Una Korbin<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;Awakened&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-12\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Una-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=12\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Una-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Una-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;m being watched.<br \/>\nThe wide-open eye of the moon<br \/>\nsees through my filmy curtain,<br \/>\npulls the cover off my sleep,<br \/>\ndraws me to her hypnotic gaze.<\/p>\n<p>I attempt to cobble dream wisps<br \/>\ninto my night awakening,<br \/>\nbut all that might be sensical<br \/>\nis incinerated in her white light \u2013<br \/>\nabsorbed into Her aliveness \u2013<\/p>\n<p>Her unhurried whirling dance<br \/>\nunveiling the naked darkness<br \/>\ndisappearing and returning<br \/>\nin the thinnest veil<br \/>\nour eyes detect \u2013<br \/>\nthread by thread exposing<br \/>\nher cloak of light.<\/p>\n<p>Now in fullness<br \/>\nher mercurial pouring,<br \/>\nshimmering back<br \/>\nlike a signaling lighthouse,<br \/>\ncalling her story out of us<br \/>\nin rhythms of gaping time,<br \/>\nenchanting the rise and sway<br \/>\nof the ocean and each creature&#8217;s<br \/>\nthrobbing birth.<\/p>\n<p>White Goddess<br \/>\nRib of the Earth \u2013<br \/>\nOur awakened dream.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;Light a Candle&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-13\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Una-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=13\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Una-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Una-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Light a candle,<br \/>\nBring it within.<\/p>\n<p>This flame is halo enough<br \/>\nto waken the huddled darkness \u2013<br \/>\nblack silhouettes frozen in time.<br \/>\nWatch their edges fidget<br \/>\nas they thaw and arouse,<br \/>\nawaiting your discovery.<\/p>\n<p>They are overstayed guests<br \/>\nwanting one thing or another.<br \/>\nShine this light upon them \u2013<br \/>\nsee who&#8217;s who,<br \/>\neach one speaks<br \/>\na different tongue,<br \/>\nso listen carefully, to each.<\/p>\n<p>What they want is you.<br \/>\nStep bravely into<br \/>\ntheir shadowy feet,<br \/>\nenter the shape of their flesh,<br \/>\nlisten for the trail of their longing,<br \/>\nwhat you have been carrying.<\/p>\n<p>If you give them<br \/>\nwhat is inside their asking,<br \/>\nyou will receive.<\/p>\n<p>They may go, vacate.<\/p>\n<p>What remains?<\/p>\n<p>An open window,<br \/>\na clearing,<br \/>\nnew fields of fresh life<br \/>\nto stretch, roam,<br \/>\nand climb as pulsations<br \/>\nof a flame.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Susanna Gaertner<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>Several Short Poems: &#8220;Cock&#8217;s Crow&#8217;, &#8220;Autumn Leaves&#8221;, &#8220;Investment&#8221;, &#8220;Shakespeare &amp; Company&#8221;, &#8220;Imprimatur&#8221;, &#8220;Logik&#8221;, &#8220;Baltimore&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-14\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susanna-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=14\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susanna-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Susanna-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Cock&#8217;s Crow<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Forever in your recent years<br \/>\nthe sun has not come up any more.<br \/>\nYou know it is morning<br \/>\nby the end of plausible nightmares.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Autumn Leaves<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Cold bespangled<br \/>\nglistening<br \/>\nin their flight to earth<br \/>\nfallen angels<br \/>\nwhich yet exhale<br \/>\nsummer ecstasy.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Investment<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>My ancestors&#8217; bones<br \/>\ngiven on temporary loan<br \/>\nmy children will repay the interest<br \/>\nmy death augment the capital.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Shakespeare &amp; Company<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Age cannot wither<br \/>\nnor custom fade<br \/>\nthe power of your smile.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The twinkle in them may weaken<br \/>\nas the wrinkles around them deepen<br \/>\netching parallel laugh-lines into my heart<br \/>\nuntil<br \/>\nat eighty, I shall stand transformed<br \/>\nalive, radiant, seeing myself with a start<br \/>\nas in a mirror of your eyes at thirty.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Imprimatur<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>unlock your hands to me<br \/>\nfor I will then unclose<br \/>\nor, if you wish,<br \/>\nmy life will shut like a book<br \/>\nthat is past,<br \/>\nprinted, you, on the last page<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>LOGIK<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>was wir nicht kennen<br \/>\nkoennen wir nicht nennen<br \/>\nwas wir nicht nennen koennen<br \/>\nkoennen wir nicht lieb gewonnen haben<br \/>\nich liebe dich mehr als ich dich kenne<br \/>\nalso doch nicht dich<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Baltimore<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Red porches gaped stupidly<br \/>\nat the traffic in the sooty streets<br \/>\nand stifled the yawns of the houses behind.<\/p>\n<p>Those red jaws could not bite for their size<br \/>\nthe explanations offered by exhaust pipes<br \/>\nthat stopped, screaming at the ragged row-house doors.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>===<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4><strong>Philip Thatcher<\/strong><\/h4>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;February Moon&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-15\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=15\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-1-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The moon of purification<br \/>\nsaid the Romans<br \/>\nthe before dawn air crisp with<br \/>\nfrost, scouring itself clean<\/p>\n<p>cleansing the moon&#8217;s light as it<br \/>\nslips down from the south<br \/>\ntoward its vanishing point just<br \/>\nshy of west and enters the tangle<\/p>\n<p>of branches beyond my window, snagged,<br \/>\nthe branches incising its shine<br \/>\nthen released to rest in the open<br \/>\nfork between trunk and trunk<\/p>\n<p>A waning moon, just off full, a sliver of<br \/>\nlight gone from its earthward edge<br \/>\ndrawn toward, through the sunward<br \/>\nbow by the long threads of the sun<\/p>\n<p>Purification and sacrifice, as the sun draws<br \/>\nthe moon homeward night by night<br \/>\nsliver of light by sliver of light drawn<br \/>\nthrough that bow until it is but a sliver<\/p>\n<p>of itself, yet held near full this moment<br \/>\nbetween earth and sun, trunk and trunk<br \/>\nthe dawn air crisp with frost<br \/>\nscouring itself clean<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>&#8220;Almost Autumn&#8221;<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-16\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3?_=16\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-2-Poet-Nite-2.10.24.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>A waning moon, these nights at<br \/>\nthe end of August<br \/>\nVoices from a<br \/>\nlate summer party rose and fell<br \/>\nalong the block last night, voices<br \/>\nwanting release from what will<br \/>\nnot let go, the plague that persists<br \/>\nthe election not wanted, the cries<br \/>\nof the ones stranded in a flow of sewage in a faraway land. from<br \/>\nthat pinprick to the heart<\/p>\n<p>And the ravens wing along the<br \/>\nedge of these mornings, the sound<br \/>\nof them hidden in distant trees<br \/>\nor fleeting across a span of sky<br \/>\ngoing from burnt to lucid blue<\/p>\n<p>Are they telling us something?<br \/>\na friend asks<br \/>\nMaybe so<br \/>\nmaybe telling me to return to<br \/>\nBasho and Ryokan, to listen<br \/>\nclosely. breath by breath, to<br \/>\nwhat moves within, between<br \/>\nthose compact lines<br \/>\nheld apart, held together by a<br \/>\nthin poignant blade<\/p>\n<p>A waning moon<br \/>\nthat pinprick to the heart<br \/>\nalmost autumn<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h5><strong>[Haiku]<\/strong><\/h5>\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-6201-17\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-3-Poet-Nite-2.10.24-Haiku.mp3?_=17\" \/><a href=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-3-Poet-Nite-2.10.24-Haiku.mp3\">https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/Philip-3-Poet-Nite-2.10.24-Haiku.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-5972\" src=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/02\/IMG_4418.jpeg\" alt=\"\" width=\"900\" height=\"556\" srcset=\"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/02\/IMG_4418.jpeg 900w, https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/02\/IMG_4418-480x297.jpeg 480w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 0px) and (max-width: 480px) 480px, (min-width: 481px) 900px, 100vw\" \/><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&#8220;Tools of the Trade&#8221; \/ Photograph taken in Robinson Jeffers &#8220;Hawk Tower&#8221; \/ Big Sur \/ Northern California, North America \/ Photo: Bruce Donehower &nbsp; March 10, 2024 Dear Friends, Several times each year, the Section has a Poetry Night in which friends and members of the Section read original poetry and in which poetry [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6200,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[12,55],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6201","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meeting-summaries","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6201","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6201"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6201\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6244,"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6201\/revisions\/6244"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6200"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6201"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6201"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theliteraryarts.com\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6201"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}