White noise

I want to say more

with less words

so that you can understand

the emptiness

of what should be

and is not.

And how that feels

like an avalanche

of white noise.


Without A Saturday

chester maynes

There is love wrapped
in paper foils and
the air smells like
a basket of magnolias.

High is the feeling
like a wave of intensity
and a roller-coaster ride.
I hum a famous song.

You can’t wait to stress
yourself in a time of knowing
how I feel about you and I.
Today is not for us.

What we realize from many
circumstances that do not
lie is without a Saturday
that fades our human thoughts.


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Not today.

This is not the day you crumble into ashes.
This is not the day you go up in flames.
Not today.
No, the beast does not win. Not today. Today you won’t wage war on yourself, you will not go looking for landmines.
No my darling, you will not.
Not today.
This day was not made for broken edges and acid rain, not for salty eyes and empty coffee cups.
This is not the day you decide the curtain call, the final note, the last nail in the coffin.
Not today.
Do you hear me? Not fucking today.
Come what may today you will not stumble and stay down, you will not crash and burn, you will not drown.
You will come up for air. Stand up.

This is not how the story ends.

Not today.

mary oliver | a settlement

poetry dispatch & other notes from the underground


Poetry Dispatch No. 62 | April 2, 2006

A Settlement by Mary Oliver

Look, it’s spring. And last year’s loose dust has turned
into this soft willingness. The wind-flowers have come
up trembling, slowly the brackens are up-lifting their
curvaceous and pale bodies. The thrushes have come
home, none less than filled with mystery, sorrow,
happiness, music, ambition.

And I am walking out into all of this with nowhere to
go and no task undertaken but to turn the pages of
this beautiful world over and over, in the world of my mind.

* * *
Therefore, dark past,
I’m about to do it.
I’m about to forgive you

for everything.

from WHAT DO WE KNOW, Poems and Prose Poems

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Love is take an umbrella in case it rains and watch out.

Love is felt and seen, a rock in a storm, a place to rest.

It is home and comfort.

It is madness and the edge.

Love is a forest fire; all consuming and beautiful. Love is healing.

Love is restless like a bird. Love is gravity; a force of nature, undeniable. Love is mathematics; a little hard at times but worth it.

Love is listening and gentle, fierce and powerful.

Love is hope.


Love is a dog in the night, howling at the moon. Love is a satelite and a sun, it is the river kissing the sea.

Love is a Sunday afternoon and 3 a.m. on a Tuesday night.

Love is you have to leave and be back soon.

Love is forgiveness and salvation. It is pain and truth and the secret. It is the answer to forgotten questions and questions that never get asked.

Love is apotheosis.

Love is everything you want it to be: no more, no less.



There are no directions.

There are no right decisions.

There is you and me and the space between us, which is not really space. It’s light and it’s blinding.

There is frozen time, the time when time stops and forgets itself. We have all our eternities in these moments that are not moments but more like an infinity and free-falling.

There is you and me but not us, just we. A line in the sand no one wants. A line in the air that can’t be seen. No weight, no meaning, non-existent. A line that is string, that is bone and diamond and unbreakable, that connects.

There is time but there isn’t. There are choices that aren’t choices, distance that isn’t distance.

There is no wrong answers.

There are no answers.

We make it up as we go.

Take my hand, there is a forever to be seen and an eternity to be felt.


I am nameless.

I am the wind in the trees and the light on the sand and the whisper of breathe.

I am the red bands of fate and the string that runs though space and time, that twists and turns and goes on and on and on.

I am the ticking of a clock in the afternoon, the scratch of pen on paper and the dead-space after a secret.

I am sorrow and pain and screaming. I am the Berlin wall and a black hole and a pool of blood. I am hand grenades and napalm and a bullet to the brain.

I am sunshine and beauty and truth. I am the smile of a child, a love letter, unexpected laughter that bursts out of you like a flock of birds taking flight. I am dreams and magic and the impossible.

I am everything and nothing. Contradictions and chaos, order and simplicity.

I am the new moon of darkness, I am the radiant sun.

I am fierce and powerful,vulnerable and scared, thunder and lightning, strangeness and charm.

I am the end, the beginning, the in-between.

The empty notes in a symphony, the skipped heartbeats, the held breathe, the flight before a fall.

I am all this and more.

What is there to be afraid of?