And finally…poems

I recognize that I hunger for poetry – periodically I canvas new poetry books and the old on my shelves to be STRUCK – to be wakened – charged – re-membered – into some leaping alive sensibility awareness delight sorrow grief ecstasy – that the vividness and risk of well-made poems incite…

for me, anyway.

Thus, the Bolano.  A beginning.

Thus, returning to Nooteboom, a certainty.

Thus, the new arrivals shelf – Wichita Public Library.

and then…today…BOOM.

Bob Hicok, tested favorite, “new arrival,” Elegy Owed

the jump-start.

the activation.

something like recognition and instigation at once.

what poetry does.

and having no idea where to begin to share it with you

to recommend

to commend to you

I’ll just offer the opening poem:

and the closer…

Good-bye

and to tell you that everything in between is every bit as good

and some even better….

Good-bye

 

Small white church at the edge of my yard.

A bell will ring in a few hours.

People who believe in eternity will sing.

I’ll hear an emotion resembling the sea from over a hill.

One time I sat with my back to the church to give their singing

to my spine, there’s a brown llama you can watch

while you do this in a field if you’d like to try.

I don’t think even calendars believe in eternity.

Beyond the church is a trail that leads to a bassinet in a tree.

Someone put it there when the oak and sky were young.

I’m afraid to climb the tree.

That I’ll find bones inside.

That they’ll be mine.

I want to be with  my wife forever but not as we are.

She’ll become a bear, I a season: Kodiak, spring.

Part of loving bagpipes haunting the gloaming is knowing

the bloodsinging will stop.

Beyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.

What were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?

This is where I get self-conscious about language,

words are love affairs or séances or harpoons, there isn’t a sentence

that isn’t a plea.

This is where I don’t care that I’m half wrong when I say everything

is made entirely of light.

This is where my wife and I hold hands.

Over there is where our shadows do a better job.

– Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed
{"cc_re__cc_re__cc_by_4_0": ["ethod=\"get\" class=\"search-form\" action=\"https://manoftheword.com/\">\n\t<label>\n\t\t<span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Search for:</span>\n\t\t<input type=\"search\" class=\"search-field\" placeholder=\"Search \u2026\" value=\"\" name=\"s\" title=\"Search for:\" />\n\t</label>\n\t<button type=\"submit\" class=\"search-submit\">\n\t\t<span class=\"genericon genericon-search\">\n\t\t\t<span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Search</span>\n\t\t</span>\n\t</button>\n</form></aside><aside id=\"text-2\" class=\"widget widget_text\">\t\t\t<div class=\"textwidget\"><a rel=\"license\" href=\"http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/\"><img alt=\"Creative Commons License\" style=\"border-width:0;\" src=\"https://i.creativecommons.org/l/by/4.0/88x31.png\" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel=\"license\" href=\"http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/\">Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License</a>.</div>\n\t\t</aside>\n\t\t<aside id=\"recent-posts-2\" class=\"widget widget_recent_entries\">\n\t\t<h1 class=\"widget-title\">Latest Lines</h1>\n\t\t<ul>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li>\n\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"https://manoftheword.com/2022/12/25/mysteries-wor", "Search for:\" />\n\t</label>\n\t<button type=\"submit\" class=\"search-submit\">\n\t\t<span class=\"genericon genericon-search\">\n\t\t\t<span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Search</span>\n\t\t</span>\n\t</button>\n</form></aside><aside id=\"text-2\" class=\"widget widget_text\">\t\t\t<div class=\"textwidget\"><a rel=\"license\" href=\"http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/\"><img alt=\"Creative Commons License\" style=\"border-width:0;\" src=\"https://i.creativecommons.org/l/by/4.0/88x31.png\" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel=\"license\" href=\"http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/\">Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License</a>.</div>\n\t\t</aside>\n\t\t<aside id=\"recent-posts-2\" class=\"widget widget_recent_entries\">\n\t\t<h1 class=\"widget-title\">Latest Lines</h1>\n\t\t<ul>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li>\n\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"https://manoftheword.com/2022/12/25/mysteries-words-flesh/\">Mysteries &#8211; 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Words&nbsp;Flesh</a>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t</li>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li>\n\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"https://manoftheword.com/2022/12/25/st-john-chrysostom-homily-on-christmas-morning/\">St. John Chrysostom: Homily on Christmas&nbsp"], "copyright__copyright__copyright": ["inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed", "inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed", "inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed", "inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed", "inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed", "inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed", "inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed", "inging will stop.\n\nBeyond the church I pulled a hammer from the river.\n\nWhat were you building, I asked its rust, from water and without nails?\n\nThis is where I get self-conscious about language,\n\nwords are love affairs or s\u00e9ances or harpoons, there isn\u2019t a sentence\n\nthat isn\u2019t a plea.\n\nThis is where I don\u2019t care that I\u2019m half wrong when I say everything\n\nis made entirely of light.\n\nThis is where my wife and I hold hands.\n\nOver there is where our shadows do a better job.\n\n\u2013 Bob Hicok, Elegy Owed"]}