Poems Rethabile Likes

[Sonnet] You jerk you didn't call me up by Bernadette Mayer | Poems Rethabile Likes [Sonnet] You jerk you didn't call me up by Bernadette Mayer You jerk you didn't call me up I haven't seen you in so long You probably have a fucking tan & besides that instead of making love tonight You're drinking your parents to the airport I'm through with you bourgeois boys All you ever do is go back to ancestral comforts Only money can get—even Catullus was rich but Nowadays you guys settle for a couch By a soporific color cable t.v. set Instead of any arc of love, no wonder The G.I. Joe team blows it ever...

Recreation by Audre Lorde | Poems Rethabile Likes Recreation by Audre Lorde Coming together it is easier to work after our bodies meet paper and pen neither care nor profit whether we write or not but as your body moves under my hands charged and waiting we cut the leash you create me against your thighs hilly with images moving through our word countries my body writes into your flesh the poem you make of me. Touching you I catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat I love you flesh into blossom I made you an...

Sonnet by Alice Dunbar Nelson | Poems Rethabile Likes Sonnet by Alice Dunbar Nelson I had no thought of violets of late, The wild, shy kind that spring beneath your feet In wistful April days, when lovers mate And wander through the fields in raptures sweet. The thought of violets meant florists' shops, And bows and pins, and perfumed papers fine; And garish lights, and mincing little fops And cabarets and songs, and deadening wine. So far from sweet real things my thoughts had strayed, I had forgot wide fields, and clear brown streams The perfect loveliness that God has made— Wild violets shy and Heaven-mounting dr...

White canes bend at two places, like fingers by Rethabile Masilo | Poems Rethabile Likes White canes bend at two places, like fingers by Rethabile Masilo Cities through fingertips inebriate me. Everywhere I travel lies this pavement defining the town with a kerb that may or may not curve to where I go. Patient, I like to try and see it with my cane, slightly slanted in the hand. Not a stick, a pen I use to trace my life again as I walk and tap or touch stone or brick or granite at my feet. No need to prove God or splendour. If you don't listen well to night you may miss the bat that moves with rubber wing, and fl...

Herring by Glenn Shaheen | Poems Rethabile Likes Herring by Glenn Shaheen Somebody suggested I buy pickled Herring in wine sauce— it didn't sound Like a bad idea, all these conversations Mired in capital's sloughed-off flesh. The dirt below the snow making its Presence known by each dig of the Shovel. I should buy a new one, I Should make my presence known In the annals of commerce. Things I should buy, endless wires coiled And hopelessly tangled. What do The spirits tell us when they manifest Over our beds in deep night, rotten Visions or undigested bits of beef. Outside the vermin are so all...