How does one live on?

Seconds, minutes, years

And you, simply gone

Do you know of my fears?

Whiling days away in tears.

I'm tired

Bob Hicok is a two-time finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award and recipient of the Bobbitt Prize from the Library of Congress, he’s also been awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship, two National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships, and eight Pushcart Prizes, and his poems have been selected for inclusion in nine volumes of The Best American Poetry. This is one of four new poems in Discordia Review / Fellow Travellers.

I've always loved his writing; it reminds me of someone like Ron Padgett, or John Ashbery in a folksy mood. I respect too that despite how articulate and intellectual he comes across in interviews, he became a poet and published very successfully before ever having taken any kind of university degree. Cool guy!

This is the preface to Blake's long poem 'Milton: A Poem in Two Books', not to be confused with Blake's much longer poem 'Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion'. It most likely hints at the apocryphal story of Jesus accompanied Joseph of Arimathea visiting England before his years of public ministry. Blake has fascinated me for a long time, and this is one of the little gems I recently found.

titled shortened for space

This is from Gafor's book of Rumi poems entitled: GOLD. She is reading Oct. 29 at the Sheen Center in nyc with Naomi Shihab Nye and several musicians if you are near NYC.

I don't know if this is the correct page to post this on, but can anyone tell me how one is supposed to enjoy poetry. I have read some poems by Keats, Byron, Yeats, etcetera, and feel like I didn't "get it"(If that is the correct term in this case).

I consider myself a fast reader, and I have tried reading poetry before and it feels that the words just fly by without me understanding the point of what I just read. Related to that, from what I researched from this topic before people mentioned that poetry is meant to be "felt", but from the poetry that I have read I feel nothing.

If it matters, I have enjoyed more longer or narrative poems like "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight" and the works of Homer.

I appreciate any response.

From The Solace Is Not The Lullaby, Yale University Press, 2020

Hello there, the story was of someone looking out upon a body of water in water in first person, then as they are describing it switch to the position of a writer trying to think of the best word to describe the scene.

i felt it was a lovely poem about how a storyteller should tell a story as if it was them in the story, even if they arnt.

I beleive i heard this poem on the daily poem podcast around 3 or 4 years ago. It was read by a man. Thank you.

Why did i post this? I dont know...
I Believe i've always found this as one of my more favorite poems out there, apart from countless many.
As a kid it had taken me completely off-guard, since i always carried the close-minded impression that poems are only ever happy... ( I was far too far off, wasn't I? )

It is a nostalgic piece, as it did lead me down the rabbit hole of reading through more and more poems afterwards, do not know, and do not think i ever will know, what was wrong with me, searching for more poems with sadness in them.

I will not claim here that i know all poems and poets, and everything about this part of the artistic world, as I am simply a person who occasionally reads poetry as a form of entertainment.

I will give this piece most of the credit for ever sending me launching straight in the world of poems and poets.

Thank you Walt Whitman, for letting me discover this beautiful world's beautiful art of poetry.

From Cavalier Carcass (1976, Square Deal Publications).

Audio recording of Leclair reading this and other poems here: https://youtu.be/e1deVthK0xU?si=Fe48Xl2x5c8dVsCI&t=1975