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"cupolas" poems
Green sea-tarnished copper And sea-tarnished gold Of cupolas. Sea-runnelled streets Channelled by salt air That wears the white stone. The sunlight-filled cistern Of a dry-dock. Square shadows. Sun-slatted smoke above meticulous stooping of cranes. Water pressed up by ships' prows Going, coming. City dust turned Back by the sea-wind's Wall.
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Seaport
Bells overbrim with sound And spread from cupolas Out through the shaking air Endless unbreaking circles Cool and clear as water. A stone dropped in the water Opens the lips of the pool And starts the unovertaking Rings, till the pool is full Of waves as the air of bells. The deep-sea bell of sleep Under the pool of the mind Flowers in concentric circles Of annihilation till Both sight and sound die out, Both pool and bells are quelled.
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Bells, Pool And Sleep
Its baroque eyelashes still obscured By the vapid, nocturnal turmoil, My city rises from sleep in the morning, To the acrid smell of taverns Opened too early, Where garrulous, ***** drunks Resume their heated quarrels. My city awakens at dawn, In the suave perfume of flowers clouded by dust; Those tender, resigned cupolas, waiting For the midday summer sun, to ooze over them. Bent backs and furrowed foreheads, Large crowds trotting on the sidewalks, Greet each other absent-minded, on the fly, Hurrying on, forgetting their pitiable heritage, their history, When, thirsty for blood, their ancestors, Greedily slaughtered each other, ―In the name of mother country and of different Gods―, Under the shadows of rival cathedrals. It took me a long time to be able to discern The time corroded voice of my city, But today I understand its madness and its error; I cross it lovingly, with a lithe step, And I am saddened by the sight of lifeless, white kittens, Lying on the pavement, snuffed out by the spirits of the night, Red poppies blossoming from their muzzles, In the morning light. Flavia Cosma from * Bucharest Tales*
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Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC
"My City in the Morning"
There were a surfeit of items Sufficient to raise eyebrows or cause comment Among the few staid members of the Mulligan clan: The appearance of siblings or cousins assumed (or at least hoped) To have preceded Thomas to the choir invisible Two or three women genuinely surprised To discover the existence of one another, One young man with an extremely disconcerting resemblance To his “Uncle Tommy”, But the entire affair carried on with something akin To the requisite solemnity Until such point that a couple bottles appeared (The consensus being that the good Mulligan Had somehow found a way to secret them in) The end result being the proceedings Subsequently devolved into an Irish cop wake-esque teleplay, And in the midst of this fol-de-rol, Tippy Phelan, Who had framed walls for generic bank buildings And grunted and swore while cobbling together Unnecessary cupolas and wholly superfluous cornices On the McMansions of the small town well-enough-to-do With Tommy (as well as, on Friday lunch-times During the slow season, sharing a thermos Containing a mixture which drew narrow-eyed stares From lenient if still unhappy foremen) Stood the final toast for the good Mulligan, Intoning *There’s a land of the quick and the land of the lost, The trick being to build a sturdy span between them So it’s only proper that Tommy was a ****** fine carpenter*.
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Nov 29, 2021
Nov 29, 2021 at 2:26 PM UTC
thomas mulligan, with the universe
What God has put asunder, I have joined together. He chuckles at this somewhat self-consciously, His clientele comprised primarily of gentlemen of a certain age, Most of whom have stepped off to the altar Twice or thrice, some even more, Whose wives will be, at least pro tem, The mistresses of the Moorish bastardizations Being commissioned by their husbands, Vaguely Iberian grotesqueries Christened Sin Cuidado and Villa Tranquilla Festooned with cornucopias of cornices and cupolas, Featuring vaulted cathedral ceilings and open-prairie floor plans, Impossible to cool in the ninety-degree dawn of August Or heat during the all too frequent cold snaps, (Such being noted to him by a visitor From a staid Boston architectural firm, To which he replied, *Save that for the classrooms, pal. I give the people what they want, dad, And these folks are first, last, and forever All about the façade.*) It is not, however, his effort to turn Florida’s East Coast Into a giant movie set for the stories of Don Juan or El Cid Which inspires him to utter his inversion of the marital vow. He has moved beyond being a mere designer; He is a man of substance, a builder in the larger, cosmic sense, And so he is here, in this sticky, sweltering venue Which disappointed Spaniards named after a rat’s oral cavity, To make a new Venice, complete with electric gondolas, Cloisters which would put any in the Old World to shame, Gesturing, bellowing, and cajoling, A Prospero of sawhorses and steam shovels, As displaced Seminoles and colored laborers Sweat and swear and stumble As they dredge swamps and hack down stumpy mangroves In the service of his vision, the aggrandizement of his bottom line, Arm-twisting the caprices of drought and hurricane To serve the pricier whims Of a gaggle of DuPonts and Wanamakers. It’s not that I don’t believe in a higher power, he will demur, I’m simply not averse to some slight enhancement of His plans.
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Aug 20, 2021
Aug 20, 2021 at 10:18 AM UTC
Addison Mizener In The Swamps
What God has put asunder, I have joined together. He chuckles at this somewhat self-consciously, His clientele comprised primarily of gentlemen of a certain age, Most of whom have stepped off to the altar Twice or thrice, some even more, Whose wives will be, at least pro tem, The mistresses of the Moorish bastardizations Being commissioned by their husbands, Vaguely Iberian grotesqueries Christened Sin Cuidado and Villa Tranquilla Festooned with cornucopias of cornices and cupolas, Featuring vaulted cathedral ceilings and open-prairie floor plans, Impossible to cool in the ninety-degree dawn of August Or heat during the all too frequent cold snaps, (Such being noted to him by a visitor From a staid Boston architectural firm, To which he replied, *Save that for the classrooms, pal. I give the people what they want, dad, And these folks are first, last, and forever All about the façade.*) It is not, however, his effort to turn Florida’s East Coast Into a giant movie set for the stories of Don Juan or El Cid Which inspires him to utter his inversion of the marital vow. He has moved beyond being a mere designer; He is a man of substance, a builder in the larger, cosmic sense, And so he is here, in this sticky, sweltering venue Which disappointed Spaniards named after a rat’s oral cavity, To make a new Venice, complete with electric gondolas, Cloisters which would put any in the Old World to shame, Gesturing, bellowing, and cajoling, A Prospero of sawhorses and steam shovels, As displaced Seminoles and colored laborers Sweat and swear and stumble As they dredge swamps and hack down stumpy mangroves In the service of his vision, the aggrandizement of his bottom line, Arm-twisting the caprices of drought and hurricane To serve the pricier whims Of a gaggle of DuPonts and Wanamakers. It’s not that I don’t believe in a higher power, he will demur, I’m simply not averse to some slight enhancement of His plans.
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