James Moore's Poetry Emergency

Poet James Moore posted this poetry emergency status update to his facebook page at 2:41 yesterday. Send him something, via elenabella, facebook, or his email address. This beautiful photo of Jim was taken by his wife, photographer JoAnn Verburg. His own books include Lightning at Dinner, The Freedom of History, and The Long Experience of Love. I've pasted in what he's received by way of emergency response so far, below. Social media to the rescue!

Shoulder bag with passport and journal and books by Ko Un, Ruth Stone, and Merwin stolen. Passport easy to replace but what about the poems! I'm in Italy another two weeks. If anyone wants to send me a poem they've been reading recently and liking, that would be great. Or if you are not a poem person, a good quote would be lovely, too.

 

Sorry to hear about the loss! I am sending a few short poems from 170 Chinese Poems and a little one I wrote. Look in your email soon. (from Justine Johnson)

Dog grief and the love of coffee / lengthen like a shadow of mine // and now that my eyes no longer / swear to anything I look out // through the cloud light of this autumn / and see the valley where I came // first more than half my life ago / oh more than half with its river // a sky in the palm of a hand / never unknown and never known // never and never not mine / beyond it into the distance // the ridges reflect the clouds now / through a morning without shadows // the river still seems not to move / as though it were the same river (wsm, shadow) (from Todd Boss)

 " . . . underneath the anguish of death and pain and ugliness, are the facts of hunger and unquenchable life, shining, and peaceful. It is as if our bodies, wiser than we who wear them, call out for encouragement and strength and, in spite pf us and the patterns of proper behavior we have learned, compel us to answer, and to eat." --MFK Fisher  (from Rebecca Weaver)

"Winter Visit" by Patricia Kirkpatrick

This poem came from Patricia Kirkpatrick on December 24th:

WINTER VISIT
-after Hsiang Hung (1940-)

My head is white, my hair
cut short now.
When I look in the mirror
I hardly know who I am.
But that has been true for some time
even before I was sick.
I know you came to visit.
I don't remember what we said.
"Fresh flowers," you noticed
when I brought tea to the table.
I was happy the whole time you were here.
When you left,
I held the door open,
winter moon lighting snow
as you went.
Spring will come.
I don't know if you'll visit again.
On my desk for days
I've left the cup of oolong
your lips touched.

"Winter Visit" was also posted on Flurry, edited by Todd Boss. Patricia is author of Century's Road, published by Holy Cow! Press, and is poetry editor for Water-Stone Review. She teaches in the MFA program at Hamline University.

When we were both writing poetry in our early 2os, I met Patricia through poet Jim Moore. I still recall having tea one day at her apartment in St. Paul. It was very nice to get this winter visit, on Christmas Eve, many years later.