This blog will be home to the Black Sox
The Black Sox are a group of poets from the Chapel Hill - Durham area of North Carolina. They have been meeting bi-weekly for over a decade. The current members include:
- Maura High
- Florence Nash
- Coyla Barry
- Debra Kaufman
- J.S. Absher
- Ann Garbett
- Tanya Olson
- Bruce Tindall (at a distance)
- Joanna Scott
posted by Paul Jones at 8:21 PM
4 Comments:
I'm checking out the site and looks as if I am the first commenter. So it seems I should post a poem, so here's one by "poetess" Chu Shu Chen (translation by K. Rexroth). A variation on April is the cruelest month. --Debra
Hysteria
When I look in the mirror
My face frightens me. I am
afraid of myself. Every
spring weakness overcomes me like
A mortal sickness. I am too
Weary to arrange the flowers
Or paint my face. Everything
Bothers me. All the old sorrows
Flood back and make the present worse.
The crying nightjars terrify me.
The mating swallows embarrass me,
Flying two by two outside
My window. Plucked eyebrows,
Weary eyes--that have grown hard
With loneliness. Swallows chirp
In the painted eaves--but I
Have lost the ability
Even to dream of happiness.
Each new Spring finds me deeper
Tangled and snarled in bitterness.
As all the world grows more lovely
My bowels are torn with sorrow.
Peach blossoms quiver in the
Light of the new moon on the first
Nights of the Season of Cold Food.
Huge willows in the golden
Twilight wave their long shadows
In the clear bright winds of Spring.
Surrounded by flowers, trapped in
Pain, I watch the sun set beyond
The roofs of the women's quarters.
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I liked this one. Hello, I am new here as well and I guess I will say hellow with my own poem.
Haunted
I write because…
I’m commissioned!
Morality is calling,
demanding decisions
as I’m falling deeper;
no longer commanding my responses,
as unconscious actions
slowly infiltrate my public psyche.
And though my intentions were
to escape
what I know to be true,
guilt
changes my chosen view
so that truth
will haunt me into submission,
demanding me to do
the right thing
regardless of its unpopularity.
And while blindness would be
a welcome gift,
I am left with an uncomfortable
clarity of vision!
Seeing everything as it
truly is,
uncut and uncensored,
in full 3D reality
within ten feet of my backyard.
And being forced
to face a reality I can no longer
disregard,
I witness the horror
of man’s cruelty to man
with eyes… wide… open!
And although hypocrisy dictates
this terror remain unspoken,
I am forced to view the replay
within the movie in
my mind
until I find a way
to reveal what I feel
to others…
finally releasing me,
from my responsibility
of truth.
---------------------------
© 2004 John M. Swails.
All Rights Reserved.
First published by AuthorHouse 07/29/04
ISBN: 1-4184-7102-X (sc)
Library of Congress Control Number:2004095139
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