Poems Rethabile Likes

Love Is Not All by Edna St. Vincent Millay | Poems Rethabile Likes Love Is Not All by Edna St. Vincent Millay Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain, Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink and rise and sink and rise and sink again; Love cannot fill the thickened lung with breath, Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone; Yet many a man is making friends with death even as I speak, for lack of love alone. It well may be that in a difficult hour, pinned down by need and moaning for release, or nagged by want past resolution's power, I might be driven to sell your love for peace...

Warning by Jenny Joseph | Poems Rethabile Likes Warning by Jenny Joseph When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells And run my stick along the public railings And make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain And pick flowers in other people's gardens And learn to spit. You can wear terrible shirts and grow...

Gaza by Bill Manhire | Poems Rethabile Likes Gaza by Bill Manhire The dead boy tries to open his eyes. He wants to see the world he is leaving. But there is nothing to see here, nothing and nothing, and anyway he is gone. His parents held him while he died but they are both dead, too. Or he held them, no one remembers. 🎧 Listen to Bill Manhire read "Gaza" Your browser does not support the audio element. Poet: @BillManhire Online: @BestNewZealandPoems Book(s): @ThriftBooks ...

Sacred Days by Kay McKenzie Cooke | Poems Rethabile Likes Sacred Days by Kay McKenzie Cooke How I stalled, hiding inside my head, liking it there, cushioned. Being in the world as it was unfolding, with the sun shining neat on to footpaths, the rain's dribble on to hedges and patient mail-boxes, the smell of cooped-up budgies, the deep, warm bath nine o'clock at night, the creak of the passage; all things that cluster to form a town were bearable if the edges were woolly with fabrications. Rhododendrons and marigolds to soften front y...

this i remember by Raphael d'Abdon | Poems Rethabile Likes this i remember by Raphael d'Abdon i too, twice, wrote a piece on demand those performative poems that get you pocket cash and cheap applause  and it felt like bathing in a polluted river like stealing from grandma's wallet like the old drunk painter from my old town must have felt who scrawled still lifes in the morning to trade them with a sandwich and a bottle of wine at lunch  this i remember  as i sit on this pile of poems that will go nowhere and yet make me feel like swimming in spring waters like praying at grandma's grave ...