other poems

waiting for the then

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 17:06:07 +0000

Rare is the center.

It's either up or down - bright euphoria or howling grief.

Autumn's chill leaves me sinking - skin-pricked and worried.

Winter is so very strong-willed.

Already one feels it.

tomorrow is a long time

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Mon, 19 May 2008 19:15:02 +0000

nothing to do with nothing, other than the fact that i felt like it...

blank

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Fri, 09 May 2008 22:56:00 +0000

The day is vacant;
Where you ought be there is only emptiness
this and the howling pain of a sharp stone driven in again and again.
I stumble, I fall, I trip.
No matter how hard I try to stay steady
I find the feat impossible,

tish tish

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Tue, 06 May 2008 23:11:37 +0000

enough of this that the otherwise

surprise! here i am where are you

when it all comes down

how can you say you did you don't you will you won't you will

new england winter, eclipse

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 14:34:13 +0000

New England will leave you cold.
Winters raw, summer brief; just enough for the heart’s thaw.
One equinox slips quickly and quietly to the next
like so many ribbons about a maypole;
sun sun moon moon – eclipse.

the other | hangman

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 12:23:30 +0000

You are like the ocean tree in winter.
Your suffocating, dark womb devoid of ripe fruit.
Black branches clackedy-clack your brittle gossip
Whore whore whore – I’ll slit your throat yet –

letter | fifth avenue, new york city

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 13:17:36 +0000

You are near, but near enough perhaps to hear
So tell me, Would you, do you, hear my cries through such
delicate palms, a years’ long prayer, immortal afternoon
Responsive answers to your litanty, expected & promised.
Pressed palm-to-palm I will be

unsent letter no. 2, february 22nd

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 22:41:51 +0000

Dear,
Today the weather is changeable – first blue, now grey.
The sky tears occassionally – sleet on the window.
The goddess has become a real ice-bitch marking
the morning the sky cried sheets of rain and I thought of you.

west season | two words

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 21:58:32 +0000

Always you want to head west,
yet still the ride draws you electrically southbound, Medusa on rails.
Just this once you’d like to feel the laissez fair air of the other coast –
to be as pacific as the Pacific; specific in your desires and your wants.

blank

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 03:11:57 +0000

The day is vacant;
Where you ought be there is only emptiness
this and the howling pain of a sharp stone driven in again and again.
I stumble, I fall, I trip.

stone madonna

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 02:12:38 +0000

Three hours of me frozen as each student chisels stone
carving each lithe limb as I limn this world and that,
existing after all for the count.

the blessing

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 02:11:55 +0000

Outside the grey day, we two nestled close,
your mouth to my mouth; you whisper
dos gefelt mir – this pleases me.
The thousandth kiss of summer – bittersweet, too brief

what vanishes

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 02:06:37 +0000

Man is in-love and loves what vanishes;
1919 – Yeats.
You wanted to wrap my finger in these sad words,
engaged forever in a cracker-jack box ring.

spirit israeli | two words

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 13:44:50 +0000

We two Isreali we
the chalked-honeysuckled roads that dust my boots
- all the way home.
The others, they remain homeless,

mars opposition

sadi ranson-polizzotti — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 18:10:56 +0000

Feathered bush with brushtail ends.
It makes the seasons alarming flashing lights that
announce only the brief exchange of gifts all the more absurd.
Not the northern star’s bright silvered guide –