#kelli russell agodon

[havingapoemwithyou]

night thinks it’s crying again by Kelli Russell Agodon

#Kelli Russell Agodon #poetry #poem #autumn

[tamsoj]

Kelli Russell Agodon, "Waltz of the Orbital Decay in Our Relationship," from The Plume Anthology of Poetry 4

#kelli russell agodon #the plume anthology of poetry #night #moon #poetry #lit #literature

[inbredfawn]

'Hunter's Moon' from Dialogues with Rising Tides, Kelli Russell Agodon

#kelli russell agodon #dialogues with rising tides #hunter's moon #deer #hunter #poetry #poem #text #id in alt text

[ashtrayfloors]

"Night thinks it’s crying again"

and I keep listening to a song about autumn  where an apple tastes like longing and every leaf  in the maple tree tries to explain loss through a series of colors—hectic orange, indifferent red, a kind of gold that speaks directly to God or moonbeams and in the dark as I drive down wet roadways watching for deer the only things I can see clearly are the yellow leaves christening my windshield and I think how we are taught not to love too many, too much, the night, the darkness, and I believe I am crying but it is only rain.

—Kelli Russell Agodon

#poetry #kelli russell agodon #autumn #night #rain

[gravity-rainbow]

#kelli russell agodon #poetry #whoah

[fluorescent-ex-adolescent]

#poetry #kelli russell agodon

[poem-today]

A poem by Kelli Russell Agodon

Hunger

If we never have enough love, we have more than most. We have lost dogs in our neighborhood and wild coyotes,  and sometimes we can’t tell them apart. Sometimes we don’t want to. Once I brought home a coyote and told my lover we had a new pet. Until it ate our chickens. Until it ate our chickens, our ducks, and our cat. Sometimes we make mistakes and call them coincidences. We hold open the door then wonder how the stranger ended up in our home. There is a woman on our block who thinks she is feeding bunnies,  but they are large rats without tails. Remember the farmer’s wife? Remember the carving knife? We are all trying to change  what we fear into something beautiful. But even rats need to eat. Even rats and coyotes and the bones on the trail could be the bones on our plates. I ordered Cornish hen. I ordered duck. Sometimes  love hurts. Sometimes the lost dog doesn’t want to be found.

Kelli Russell Agodon

Listen to Kelli Russell Agodon read her poem.

Kelli Russell Agodon writes: I think this is one of the poems I am most known for, and I feel it’s a good representation of my work because it’s both dark and funny (well, I think it’s funny). Usually when I read it to an audience, they laugh when the narrator brings home the coyote and tells her lover she has a new pet, and then I hear gasps when we come to the part about that cat. As someone who grew up being told weird stories of deaths in my family, I was brought up with the idea that’s what life is—we’re all having a good time then someone dies. But, there is also love and humor. There are also people trying to be helpful and also making mistakes. Maybe my entire philosophy for life is in this poem—we want to be loved, we screw up, bad things sometimes happen, we do our best to go on, and we hope to have dinner together in the end.

More poems by Kelli Russell Agodon are available through her website.

Copyright © 2017 by Kelli Russell Agodon.

#kelli russell agodon #american poetry #hunger #coyote

[fluttering-slips]

How Damage Can Lead To Poetry

            roots: both sustain & strangle

It’s morning and there’s a poem in my jacket

             pocket, and I like how that sounds: 

jacket pocket, 

but I’m thinking about what the stranger penciled 

            in my book, how he circled the word

mistakes, then wrote, how damage can lead

to poetry.

            We are quiet birds under the morning

glory — jacket pocket — in the near-heart of the dying

hydrangeas. Damage creates the thought

            of brokenness: my garden never had enough

                           songbirds, my life never had enough

song. It’s morning and there’s a poem in my family

             history — I know the suicides, the stories

                          of strange deaths: brother choking

on a balloon, sister tripping on the church steps

                            and hitting her head so perfectly

her arteries became a celebration, Bastille Day, 

             New Year’s Eve. And she was. And he was. Gone.

Even though I wasn’t there, I still see my sisters

              finding our father’s first wife in the greenhouse

where he grew orchids — jacket pocket

— a gunshot to her head. 

This is postpartum with suicide corsages, 

             psychopsis, dendrobium, a landscape

of the dying, a three-year-old finding 

             her mother, blood on the leaves

of the plants near her. My sister would later say, 

It’s why I dislike the colors of Christmas,

             and yet, she. And yet, she. Grew up

like so many of us, near-heart, fingers

              in the roots of the dying, and mostly, 

              somewhat, okay. 

Kelli Russell Agodon

#poetry #Kelli Russell Agodon #how damage can lead to poetry

[rosaurasaurio]

#kelli russell agodon #hunger #poem #poetry

[havingapoemwithyou]

lightvessel by Kelli Russell Agodon

#Kelli Russell Agodon #poetry #poem

[nsantand]

Kelli Russell Agodon - Capelas imaginárias

"Capelas imaginárias", um poema de Kelli Russell Agodon

Sento-me no chão de um museu com um homemque não conheço. Estamos contemplando um quadrode 1508. Maria parece triste mas não está chorando.Outro homem se senta à minha esquerda e encosta sua cabeçacontra a parede. Atrás de mim, uma mulher estáchorando. Eu me levanto e caminho em direção a um estranhoque está dizendo, Está tudo bem, querida, você está indo bem.Há dias em que o mundo segura oseu…

View On WordPress

#Kelli Russell Agodon #Nelson Santander

[wordscanbeenough]

I think how we are taught / not to love too many, too much, the night, / the darkness, and I believe I am crying but it is / only rain.

Kelli Russell Agodon, from "Night thinks it's crying again"

#kelli russel agodon #quote #words #poetry

[firstfullmoon]

hi pau!!!! what are your favourite quotes / poems about fall (weather)? 💌

I love Angela Carter’s painful description of autumn: “Sad; so sad, those smoky-rose, smoky-mauve evenings of late autumn, sad enough to pierce the heart. The sun departs the sky in winding sheets of gaudy cloud; anguish enters the city, a sense of the bitterest regret, a nostalgia for things we never knew, anguish of the turn of the year, the time of impotent yearning, the inconsolable season.”

as for poems:

“Night thinks it’s crying again” by Kelli Russell Agodon

“Between Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice, Today” by Emily Jungmin Moon

“On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous” by Ocean Vuong (say autumn! say autumn despite the green in your eyes!)

“Reel” by Barbara Crooker

“Good morning, the sun in October” by Sanna Wani

“October” by Louise Glück (summer after summer has ended, / balm after violence: / it does me no good / to be good to me now; / violence has changed me // this is the light of autumn; it has turned on us. / surely it is a privilege to approach the end / still believing in something)

“It’s the Season I Often Mistake” by Ada Limón

“Fall Song” by Joy Harjo

“Leaves” by Lloyd Schwartz

“[a wind has blown the rain away and blown]” by e.e. cummings (I think i too have known / autumn too long)

#queued the ada limón poem for tomorrow <3 #w #poetry compilation #the inconsolable season

[these-summer-nights-in-december]

Beautiful Postcard Issue 1 has arrived with my collaborative poem and a host of awesome others!

Behold Issue 1 of Postcard!! 10 gorgeously illustrated poetry postcards, with a collaborative poem by myself and Dustin Nightingale, alongside Kelli Russell Agodon, Jared Beloff, Lauren Camp, Denise Duhamel, Alban Fischer, Tom Snarsky, Leah Umansky, Donna Vorreyer, & Mary Zhou. Editor David Wojciechowski has made a thing of great beauty, and you can get the complete set for just $20 bucks. And the next submission period begins February 1. What a joy to be a part of this first issue! Thanks again David! postcardlit dot com 

#christopher citro #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #poetry #poem #poet #citro #dustin nightingale #postcard lit #postcard #poetry postcard #poems #poets #prose poetry #prose poem #poetry broadsides #verse

[rustbeltjessie]

National Global Poetry (Writing) Month: 2023

It’s April again, which means my blog will become primarily a poetry-related blog for the rest of the month. Here’s a little poetry-related resource list I put together.

Prompts & Exercises & Etc.

First Cut Poetry: 30 Writing Prompts

Good Universe Next Door: 15 Wild Poetry Forms for Writing Inspiration

Good Universe Next Door: Poetry Prompts for NaPoWriMo 2023

Kelli Russell Agodon: 30 Prompts for National Poetry Month

Language is a Virus

NaPoWriMo.net

Nosebleed Club

Poetry & Practice Writing Activities

Vanguard: Exercises for the Creative Writing Classroom

Writing Prompts & Exercises

Essays on Poetics

Ordinary Plots

Poetry Unbound

Sundress Publications: Craft Chaps

What Sparks Poetry

#poetry month #national poetry month #napowrimo #glopowrimo #resources #poetry #prompts #poetics

[cacchieressa]

VENICE

Rusty church bells don't sound, instead we listen to the cathedral eroding, remains from ailing statues   dropping in the canals pouring over—

the place where we live is unwell.

As we cross the flooded piazza, balancing on raised boards, we remember how we captured the city on paper, held church between our fingertips, lit a candle at the at the end of a line—

pray as the waves wash in.

Paper boats drift under these planks, words fade in puddles, and poems once written, return to their original thought, a spark of the match,

the flame forgetful of why it was lit.

Now, it seems we all scramble through these streets, a thousand women vanishing into the architecture, a million more holding us up between alleyways.

Venice is dying,

the painter said to the sky.   Set the gondolas adrift and float between our church's doors. Ask the gods— how long must candles burn for dying?

--Kelli Russell Agodon

#poetry #national poetry month