Wherever the dead are there they are and
Nothing more. But you and I can expect
To see angels in the meadowgrass that look
Like cows -
And wherever we are in paradise
in furnished room without bath and
six flights up
Is all God! We read
To one another, loving the sound of the s’s
Slipping up on the f’s and much is good
Enough to raise the hair on our heads, like Rilke and Wilfred Owen
Any person who loves another person,
Wherever in the world, is with us in this room -
Even though there are battlefields.
--Kenneth Patchen
"On December 13, 1911, Kenneth Patchen was born in Niles. A poor boy
throughout his childhood, he spent his time playing football and working
in a factory. He enjoyed publishing in his school newspaper, kept a
diary from the age of twelve, and began reading Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Robert Burns, and Herman Melville.
"After high school, he moved to Wisconsin and attended Alexander
Meiklejohn's Experimental College for one year and then the University
of Wisconsin. Around this time, Patchen published a sonnet, 'Permanence,' in the New York Times. He continued his education
in Arkansas and then spent years traveling. He was employed as a migrant
worker in a variety of jobs in the United States and Canada."
Read more: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/23
Saturday, November 10, 2012
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