By Eugene Gloria
A 3rd assortment from an award-winning poet whose "gift is breathtaking" (Naomi Shihab Nye)
the subjects of identification, relationships, and the poet's feel of foundation are on the center of Eugene Gloria's wealthy and attractive new assortment. The name poem weaves jointly Japan's sixteenth-century warlord Hideyoshi with a meditation in regards to the poet's father's dementia; "Here on Earth" embraces post-racial the United States and the speaker's personal experience of displacement within the Midwest. In elegy and psalm, in addition to old varieties from Asia corresponding to the haibun and pantoum, those based and passionate poems enact rage, civility, love, go back and forth, and paintings in addition to discover Gloria's personal fears of frailty and erasure.
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every thing is—so many pleased palms competing
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what's it? That's so you might study
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lamentably, you have been just a baby in armor. Now whilst ribald toasts
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are just dirt, illness and previous age. friendly thoughts
are only that. So I channel no matter what
into my contingency, a vein of mercury
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each time. Dirndls noticed with out of date plants,
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Additional resources for My Favorite Warlord
Here’s to repose whose part sister is Dolor. Dolor who hates to be referred to as Dolores. Here’s to the tune “De Colores,” sung on my father’s spiritual retreat. Here’s to solitude and give up so as to cleanse the soul earlier than returning to the physique. Here’s to the physique that's my mother’s lips kissing my undesirable previous dad bowed like a peony. Which brings us again to the common-or-garden peony who corresponds in pointless postcards like his first cousin the Lord. VI. … at the Fourth of July It was once a sidelong look through the fissure, the blunders, the mangled tassel a few mistook for wrought units I had amassed, or thoughts one saved in cigar containers. Father, hardly ever flexing joint or muscle, controlled just a worked flip, turning tight his neck of crinkled chamois moistened for automobile washing and wringing dry—. no doubt that drained refrain we sung sounded dirge-like for Mother’s 80th satisfied day, even though we dragged the notes with lissome smiles, hatless heads whereas cameras snapped like fireworks within the distance, small puffs of sunshine. And my brain wandered again to what John Ashbery as soon as acknowledged approximately omit Moore, the tricorne-hatted poet who “gives us the sensation that existence is softly exploding round us. ” although round us are just shadows. There within the arid grey beneath a doorframe, Father bent as an ampersand in pressed pants and polo, being and never being, whose steps cancel one another out simply because the traveler’s vacation spot is just one a part of the adventure, or that the good is usually empty with the exception of the hole sound it includes, that is extra drink to the soul than to the parched mouth of my father, whose pose registers neither salutation nor shock. PROFLIGACY It used to be common for middle-aged males like my uncles to get one. The older set went for the transparent polish, my more youthful cousins most well-liked the extra labor-intensive buffing for that effective excessive shine. i believe the hand & forearm therapeutic massage issues. it's going to no longer be perfunctory, yet a welcome shock. This one lady gazed off in a daydream as she made mechanical windmill turns, clockwise then counterclockwise, with each one hand. no longer not like an organization handshake from an individual you meet; a limp hand is often reason for unrest. might be simply because i'm a registered Democrat, a liberal voter, accordingly at risk of profligacy, anarchy & softness, she didn't wish to appear me within the eye. I suggest, please. It used to be in the course of the period of filmstrips, while i used to be schooled on sturdy hygiene, affability & occasional grace. Thunk, the recording went & Sister Mary Joseph grew to become the knob of the small projector to get to the subsequent monitor. Her white fingers sparkling at midnight just like the plastic Jesus at the dashboard of my mother’s vehicle. TEA DANCE My cousin, who by no means held what you could name a standard activity, strutted to the orders of a unique boss. the single day he took me out for a great time, we befriended a couple of women at a membership. He used to be a tender operator, announcing simply enough and making the women chuckle. One had a fine looking face, the opposite didn't, and neither got here with regards to his age.