garden state parkway-style. april 24, 2011.
photos © anita aguilar
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Showing posts with label storm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storm. Show all posts
thundersnow 2011: awe and wonder
you knew i couldn't stay inside, right?
though i wasn't outside for long before the camera and i were soaked.
jan 27, 2011. 1am. photos © anita aguilar
pretty city: the "it's new york, baby" edition
we don't have it too bad here, but this seems unwise.
"it's new york, baby..." said david, to three guys who yowled after stepping in a puddle that was better than ankle-deep.(outside 185 madison avenue).
photos © anita aguilar
read a good poem: the way though
before the storm...same time, last year.my friends have started to complain about all the june rain.
i don't think i'll ever tire of it. i love the before, during, and after a summer storm. fast moving clouds, swirly winds, people scurrying for shelter. me, in my duck boots.
***
the way through (1954)
let the rain plunge radiant
through sulky thunder
rage on rooftops
let it scissor and bounce its denials
on concrete slabs and black
roadways. flood the streets. it's much
but not enough, not yet: persist,
rain, real rain, sensuous,
swift, released from
the water flies in the halfwit's eyes
to lose ourselves, to career
up the plunge of the hill.
--denise levertov
from the new american poetry, 1945-1960
***
favorite line:
trying to get by on the verge
is no good
i don't think i'll ever tire of it. i love the before, during, and after a summer storm. fast moving clouds, swirly winds, people scurrying for shelter. me, in my duck boots.
***
the way through (1954)
let the rain plunge radiant
through sulky thunder
rage on rooftops
let it scissor and bounce its denials
on concrete slabs and black
roadways. flood the streets. it's much
but not enough, not yet: persist,
rain, real rain, sensuous,
swift, released from
vague skies, the tedium
up there. under scared bucking trees
the beach road washed out - trying to get by on the verge
is no good, earth crumbles into the
brown waterfall, but he backs up
the old car again and CHARGES.is no good, earth crumbles into the
brown waterfall, but he backs up
the water flies in the halfwit's eyes
who didn't move fast enough
"who do you think i am, a horse?" but we made it--
drown us, lose us
rain, let us loose, so,to lose ourselves, to career
up the plunge of the hill.
--denise levertov
from the new american poetry, 1945-1960
***
favorite line:
trying to get by on the verge
is no good
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