Commonplace: Poetry

From “10” by Robert van Vliet, This Folded Path:

A long road made longer:
walking up and down.
Restless as fire. Blank
as the full moon.
Never standing still.
Never standing firm.

From Dobby Gibson’s “Ode to the Future”, published in Little Glass Planet:

so let’s make America a set of problems
we can admit exists again, and still have the will
to solve

From Jenny George’s collection The Dream of Reason (I could find no place to link to, so this is printed without permission):


Speckled egg, brown egg, or sky blue with black marks –

Having broken once, the world re-forms
in miniature.
Over and over, in the nest
between two limbs; in the hollow of grass
at a marsh edge.

It’s relentless, the way it keeps trying
to return.

Natalie Diaz, Postcolonial Love Poem, “Snake-Light” (didn’t love the poem, but I liked this excerpt):

When a snake swallows its prey,
a row of inner teeth help walk the jaw
over the prey’s body—walking like reading.

Walking over a word with the teeth of our mind.

To write is to be eaten. To read, to be full.

From T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets:

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.