William Greenway: Selected Poems PDF/EPUB à William

William Greenway: Selected Poems PDF/EPUB à William

William Greenway: Selected Poems [Download] ➵ William Greenway: Selected Poems By William Greenway – Larringtonlifecoaching.co.uk William Greenway’s poems travel between muggy recollections of a Southern Baptist childhood meditations on the otherworldly beauty of Wales and commentary on life death and the revelry in between Fo William Greenway’s poems travel between muggy recollections of a Southern Baptist childhood meditations on the otherworldly beauty of Wales and commentary on life death and the revelry in between For every witty turn of phrase a punch beyond the punch line stuns us with wisdom and transcendence A poem like William Greenway: Epub / “Ophelia Writes Home” a witty revisionist account that shifts the slaughter of that famous tragedy to domestic bliss exemplifies Greenway’s genius for reconciliation for the grace of happiness no matter what happens We smile we grieve and we keep reading these surehanded and goodhearted poems.


1 thoughts on “William Greenway: Selected Poems

  1. FutureCycle Press FutureCycle Press says:

    We are the publisher so all of our authors get five stars from us ExcerptsTHE NIGHT BEFORE I LEFTScared my suitcase locked on the bedI walked downstairsto tell himDown all three levels I movedthrough all the things he’d earnedto find him in the den alone the lights offdrinking a diet cola and bourbonwatching the late movieMy lips tremblingI sat down near him and started to speakwhen he leaned up and touched my arm saying This is the good part coming upwhere these natives in New Guinea thinkthe first time they saw an airplanethey thought it was GodThey think an airplane is GodI still see him bending to the screenhair white his glasses silver globescrossed by black cloudswatching natives once againdig a tiny runway of dirtbuild a tower of sticksthen sit down on their heelsin the dust to watch the sky and waitthe way their fathers didand their fathers before themPIT PONYThere are only a few left he sayskept by old Welsh miners souvenirslike gallstones or gold teeth tornfrom this “pit” so cold and wetmy breath comes out a soul upinto my helmet’s lantern beamanthracite walls running gleamingand the floors iron rutted with tram tracksthe almost pure rust that grows and waveslike orange moss in the gutters of waterthat used to rise and drownHe makes us turn all lights off almosta mile down While children screamI try to see anything my hand touchingmy nose my wife beside me—darknesspalpable like a velvet sack over our headseven the glow of watches left behindThis is where they were born intothis nothing felt first with their cold nosesfor the shaggy side and warm bag of black milkpulled their trams for twenty yearsthrough pitch past birds that didn’t singthrough doors opened by five year oldswho sat in the cheap complete blacknesslistening for steps a knockAnd they died down here generationafter generationThe last one when it dies in the hillsnot uite blind the mines closed foreverwill it die strangely? Will it wonderdimly why it was exiled from the restof its race from the dark flanks of the softmother what these timbers are that hold upnothing but blue? If this is the beginningof death this wind these stars?


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