Robert Bly Poems
|1.||Driving through Minnesota During the Hanoi Bombings||5/20/2016|
|2.||Driving toward the Lac Qui Parle River||5/20/2016|
|3.||DRIVING WEST IN 1970||5/20/2016|
|4.||For the Old Gnostics||5/20/2016|
|5.||Ravens Hiding in a Shoe||5/20/2016|
|6.||Seeing the Eclipse in Maine||5/20/2016|
|7.||Wanting Sumptuous Heavens||5/20/2016|
|8.||Prayer for My Father||5/20/2016|
|9.||The Executive's Death||5/20/2016|
|10.||The Fat Old Couple Whirling Around||5/20/2016|
|11.||The Great Society||8/17/2015|
|12.||For My Son Noah, Ten Years Old||6/23/2015|
|13.||Living at the End of Time||5/20/2016|
|14.||Waking from Sleep||4/28/2015|
|15.||The Cat In The Kitchen||1/7/2015|
|16.||Gratitude To Old Teachers||12/12/2014|
|17.||A Month Of Happiness||12/18/2014|
A Month Of Happiness
A blind horse stands among cherry trees.
And bones shine from cool earth.
The heart leaps
Almost up to the sky! But laments
And filaments pull us back into the dark.
Night takes us. But
Comes out of the dark
To light the road. I'll be all right.
I follow my own fiery traces through the night.
The Great Society
Dentists continue to water their lawns even in the rain:
Hands developed with terrible labor by apes
Hang from the sleeves of evangelists;
There are murdered kings in the light-bulbs outside movie theaters:
The coffins of the poor are hibernating in piles of new tires.
The janitor sits troubled by the boiler,
And the hotel keeper shuffles the cards of insanity.
The President dreams of invading Cuba.