Leo Yankevich

Rookie - 66 Points (October 30,1961 / Farrell, Pennsylvani)

Leo Yankevich Poems

1. Mary Magdalene 2/11/2008
2. Mary 5/7/2008
3. Market 4/5/2009
4. Summit 1/28/2013
5. Jacob's Ladder,1888 3/9/2013
6. Wake 3/9/2013
7. Trees, Walking 3/9/2013
8. Ultima Thule 3/10/2013
9. Godfather 6/22/2013
10. Elegy For Hanns Breitenbach (1890-1945) 2/22/2014
11. Promised Land 3/9/2014
12. Before His Majesty 6/19/2014
13. The Bell-Toller 6/19/2014
14. A Hundred Since The First 8/15/2014
15. Lazarus -new- 4/29/2015
16. Karpatia -new- 4/29/2015
17. Hedgehog -new- 4/29/2015
18. Grey Wolves -new- 4/29/2015
19. The Careful Gardener 6/22/2013
20. Why Wars Happen, Beings On Earth Die 8/16/2014
21. Esse 6/19/2014
22. The Adolf Hitler Canal 4/8/2013
23. Six Feet Beneath The Snow 2/20/2015
24. Childhood Leaves 3/9/2013
25. Pilitak 1/28/2013
26. Kolyma,1937 7/27/2010
27. Koniuchy, Eastern Poland,1944 7/27/2010
28. Metaphysics 5/7/2008
29. Reunion 3/13/2009
30. Old Tarts 9/4/2012
31. Lobb Ghyll Viaduct 8/3/2012
32. Tombstone 6/17/2012
33. Invocation 3/14/2009
34. Kant’s Shadow 2/12/2008
35. Tobias To His Angel 9/5/2010
36. Somewhere Over Germany,1945 5/12/2009
37. Vengeance Is Mine, Says The Lord,1943 5/12/2009
38. Two Dates 2/11/2005
39. Rust Belt 11/12/2008
40. Moonshine,1969 11/12/2008
Best Poem of Leo Yankevich

Apollo’s Archaic Torso

(after the German of Rainer Maria Rilke)

We have no knowledge of his ancient brow
where pippins ripen. Yet his torso gleams,
reflecting the candela, luminous streams
that yet pour from his gaze, his glance’s glow

still radiant, though dimmed. If not, his bare
breast would not blind you in the silent turn
of hip and thighs, a smile not flash and burn
through groins, his genitals not ever glare.

If not, this stone would seem deformed and small,
the light beneath his shoulder’s sudden fall
not seem a preying panther’s shimmering mane, ...

Read the full of Apollo’s Archaic Torso

Racked Beauty

Blest be the dawn, the luminous blue-slate,
the arch transfused by the glorious sun,
and blackbirds chanting hymnals in prickly bushes,
and rooks high over fields coughing up love.

Blest be the winds about the furrowed brow,
and the joyful whispers of dying leaves,
the maples staggered blissfully behind barbed fences
above the tombs of the newly redeemed.

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