Real Poetry

reviews, tips, and personal/local writing

Archive for the tag “Dorianne Laux”

Reading, reading, reading… and traveling as well

So I’ve been busy reading a lot of different books the past few weeks. The problem is that I don’t tend to read one book at a time so I’ve been reading at least three books at once for awhile now. Though since I finished reading The Giver
… one of the books I constantly return to… I’m going to be able to focus more of my time towards Aristotle, which I really do want to sit down and sink my teeth into.

My “to read” list is ever growing though (Transfer by Naomi Shihab Nye, The Book of Men by Dorianne Laux, A Dance with Dragons by George R.R. Martin, Alive in Necropolis by Doug Dorst… the list goes on) plus I’ve got a trip to New York coming up this weekend that will pretty much last the month of June. I’m going to try and keep up the blog posts during this time, but they may be skimpy on the content and limited in scope… since my selection of poems won’t include all of my own personal selection:

Picture of my poetry shelf

I’m going to be with family, but I am planning to work on my writing practice throughout the trip as well.  So expect some tips perhaps on how to write when surrounded by said family.

I hope everyone has a fun, safe weekend out there.  I know I’ll be busy traveling, but by next post I should be in NY.  Till then take care,

Stephen R.

Dorianne Laux – “Moon in the Window”

Hello everyone,

I’m feeling a little nostalgic as I’m writing up this post.  The poet Dorianne Laux is someone I’ve read for the past couple years and always enjoy.  I currently own two collections of hers: Facts About the Moon and The Book of Men.  This week’s poem comes out of the former.  As the title suggests, the moon is a subject that pervades a majority of the poems.  This poem in particular though really harkens back to when I was younger.

I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do, and perhaps some of you can relate to it as well.

Stephen R.

Moon in the Window

I wish I could say I was the kind of child
who watched the moon from her window,
would turn toward it and wonder.
I never wondered.  I read.  Dark signs
that crawled towards the edge of the page.
It took me years to grow a heart
from paper and glue.  All I had
was a flashlight, bright as the moon,
a white hole blazing beneath the sheets.

– Dorianne Laux

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