Ruth Stone

(June 8, 1915 – November 19, 2011)

Ruth Stone Poems

1. Peripheries 12/27/2011
2. Speculation 12/27/2011
3. Overnight Guest 8/29/2014
4. The Pear 8/29/2014
5. The Trade-Off 8/29/2014
6. Reading 8/29/2014
7. Up There 8/29/2014
8. Relatives 8/29/2014
9. Poems 8/29/2014
10. Words 8/29/2014
11. Romance 12/27/2011
12. Genesis 12/27/2011
13. At Eighty-Three She Lives Alone 12/27/2011
14. The Porch 8/29/2014
15. Not Expecting An Answer 8/29/2014
16. Spring Beauties 8/29/2014
17. The Mother 8/29/2014
18. The Question 12/27/2011
19. So What 8/29/2014
20. Repetition Of Words And Weather 8/29/2014
21. The Ways Of Daughters 8/29/2014
22. Good Advice 8/29/2014
23. This Strangeness In My Life 8/29/2014
24. Lighter Than Air 8/29/2014
25. How It Is 8/29/2014
26. 1941 12/27/2011
27. Another Feeling 12/27/2011
28. Shapes 12/27/2011
29. It Follows 12/27/2011
30. Curtains 12/27/2011
31. The Cabbage 12/27/2011
32. Male Gorillas 8/29/2014
33. Always On The Train 12/27/2011
34. Eden, Then And Now 12/27/2011
35. The Wound 12/27/2011
36. Look To The Future 12/27/2011
37. In The Next Galaxy 1/20/2003
Best Poem of Ruth Stone

In The Next Galaxy

Things will be different.
No one will lose their sight,
their hearing, their gallbladder.
It will be all Catskills with brand
new wrap-around verandas.
The idea of Hitler will not
have vibrated yet.
While back here,
they are still cleaning out
pockets of wrinkled
Nazis hiding in Argentina.
But in the next galaxy,
certain planets will have true
blue skies and drinking water.

Read the full of In The Next Galaxy

Always On The Train

Writing poems about writing poems
is like rolling bales of hay in Texas.
Nothing but the horizon to stop you.

But consider the railroad's edge of metal trash;
bird perches, miles of telephone wires.
What is so innocent as grazing cattle?
If you think about it, it turns into words.

[Hata Bildir]