Henri Cole

(1956 / Fukuoka, Fukuoka Prefecture)

Henri Cole Poems

1. Poppies 6/16/2016
2. Hand Grenade Bag 6/16/2016
3. War Rug 6/16/2016
4. The Boat-Header 6/16/2016
5. Cherry Blossom Storm 6/16/2016
6. Green Shade 6/16/2016
7. Oil & Steel 6/16/2016
8. Homosexuality 6/16/2016
9. Beach Walk 6/16/2016
10. Olympia 6/16/2016
11. Dandelions (II) 6/16/2016
12. Gravity and Center 6/16/2016
13. Harvard Classics 6/16/2016
14. Myself with Cats 6/16/2016
15. Painted Eyes 6/16/2016
16. Radiant Ivory 6/16/2016
17. Saint Stephen's Day with the Griffins 6/16/2016
18. Self-portrait in a Gold Kimono 6/16/2016
19. Twilight 6/16/2016
20. White Spine 6/16/2016
Best Poem of Henri Cole

Hand Grenade Bag

This well-used little bag is just the right size

to carry a copy of the Psalms. Its plain-woven

flowers and helicopter share the sky with bombs

falling like turnips—he who makes light of other

men will be killed by a turnip. A bachelor,

I wear it across my shoulder—it's easier to be

a bachelor all my life than a widow for a day.

On the bag's face, two black shapes appear

to be crows—be guided by the crow and you

will come to a body—though they are

military aircraft. A man who needs fire

will soon enough hold it in his...

Read the full of Hand Grenade Bag


Waking from comalike sleep, I saw the poppies,
with their limp necks and unregimented beauty.
Pause, I thought, say something true: It was night,
I wanted to kiss your lips, which remained supple,
but all the water in them had been replaced
with embalming compound. So I was angry.
I loved the poppies, with their wide-open faces,
how they carried themselves, beckoning to me
instead of pushing away. The way in and the way out

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