TERRY WOLVERTON : The hardest thing about loneliness
STEVE CROSS : Recital
ANJANA BASU : Three Green Leaves
POETRYREPAIRS 13.09:099
contemporary international poetry - for your reading pleasure,
poetry from new and established poets and essays on writing


All the fine arts are species of poetry--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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The hardest thing about loneliness Recital Three Green Leaves


TERRY WOLVERTON
The hardest thing about loneliness 
The hardest thing about loneliness is that you know you chose it, chose it in the way one chooses from among bad choices, lesser evils, when you want to refuse the limited range of options but this yields nothing so in the end you jump from the burning house rather than be immolated, and that was a choice, just as you chose these bare rooms, these solitary meals, the way you chew on choice like a bone, sucking the marrow of loneliness until grit lodges between your teeth. Sea breeze blows in from afar at night, its cool a balm but its scent lonely; it blows from another world and in that world too you are lonely, a fact of you like eye color or the fact that until age 10 you walked mostly on tiptoe, as if pitching forward into the future. Future in which you now find yourself. You've been training for this since childhood, walking alone to school along busy Grand River Avenue, past car wash, bowling alley, instead of the tree-lined sidewalks of residential blocks where other children walked in clusters or pairs. Or sitting alone in a booth at the Pancake House instead of the noisy school cafeteria, smelling of gravy and steam, where food and gossip flung through the air; you chose leatherette, black coffee, the practiced courtesies of food service. Even though it stung you chose it then as you continue to choose it; perhaps you always will. You board the airplane, seat beside you vacant. Outside, there's nothing for miles.
POETRYREPAIRS 13.09:099
I have many things to write unto you but I will not write with pen and ink
--JOHN the theologian

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The hardest thing about loneliness Recital Three Green Leaves


STEVE CROSS
Recital
Even as your fingers caress the ivory and create your music - once, soft and smooth as snowflakes sifting from the sky, falling over the audience with a silken sigh - your mind is filled with chords of memory ... about him your only failure. You played for him but he did not care, did not place laurels at your feet, nor pat your back with accolades nor fill his face with wonder at your grace. It was your first glance at a world that sucks life bare and spits out bones. A queer slice of fear hardens your notes.
POETRYREPAIRS 13.09: 099
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato

guidelines INDEX
The hardest thing about loneliness Recital Three Green Leaves


ANJANA BASU
Three Green Leaves
Three green leaves in the mud: Mud stains her cheeks and her lips, Crumpled with rain, Won't bleed into a sunset fire tonight. Rain mists her cobweb hair Diamond dewdrop-wise - jewels In an early morning sun. Grey water now. She has washed the smell of sunshine from her hair And turned to rain - Summer won't come again.
POETRYREPAIRS 13.09: 099
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TERRY WOLVERTON : The hardest thing about loneliness
STEVE CROSS : Recital
ANJANA BASU : Three Green Leaves


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