Gerald Stern


Gerald Stern Poems

1. The Sparrow 5/22/2015
2. The Name 9/15/2015
3. Magnolia 10/13/2015
4. Loneliness 6/29/2017
5. The Jew and the Rooster Are One 6/29/2017
6. Journey 6/29/2017
7. Kissing Stieglitz Good-Bye 6/29/2017
8. Leaves 6/29/2017
9. Bolero 6/29/2017
10. Box of Cigars 6/29/2017
11. In Beauty Bright 6/29/2017
12. In Time 6/29/2017
13. The Inkspots 6/29/2017
14. Much Better Than a Goat 6/29/2017
15. The Red Coal 6/29/2017
16. Still Burning 6/29/2017
17. Swifts 6/29/2017
18. Sylvia 6/29/2017
19. This Is It 6/29/2017
20. No One 6/29/2017
21. Visit from Mars 6/29/2017
22. Blue Particles 6/29/2017
23. Galaxy Love 6/29/2017
24. Read Genesis 6/29/2017
25. Books 6/29/2017
26. Glut 6/29/2017
27. The Preacher [As if the one tree you love] 6/29/2017
28. My Sister's Funeral 6/29/2017
29. Hemingway's House 6/30/2017
30. I Sometimes Think of the Lamb 6/30/2017
31. Lilacs for Ginsberg 6/30/2017
32. Lilies 6/30/2017
33. Drowning on the Pamet River 6/30/2017
34. Roses 6/30/2017
35. Save the Last Dance for Me 6/30/2017
36. Shouldering 6/30/2017
37. Day Of Grief 3/12/2015
38. Another Insane Devotion 1/7/2015
39. The Dog 1/6/2015
40. Waving Goodbye 1/21/2015

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Best Poem of Gerald Stern

Swan Song

A bunch of old snakeheads down by the pond
carrying on the swan tradition -- hissing
inside their white bodies, raising and lowering their heads
like ostriches, regretting only the sad ritual
that forced them to waddle back into the water
after their life under the rocks, wishing they could lie again
in the sun

and dream of spreading their terrifying wings;
wishing, this time, they could sail through the sky like
horses,
their tails rigid, their white manes fluttering,
their mouths open, their sharp teeth flashing,
drops of mercy ...

Read the full of Swan Song

Swan Song

A bunch of old snakeheads down by the pond
carrying on the swan tradition -- hissing
inside their white bodies, raising and lowering their heads
like ostriches, regretting only the sad ritual
that forced them to waddle back into the water
after their life under the rocks, wishing they could lie again
in the sun

and dream of spreading their terrifying wings;

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