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Best Famous William Bronk Poems

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by William Bronk | |

What We Are

 What we are? We say we want to become
what we are or what we have an intent to be.
We read the possibilities, or try.
We get to some.
We think we know how to read.
We recognize a word, here and there, a syllable: male, it says perhaps, or female, talent -- look what you could do or love, it says, love is what we mean.
Being at any cost: in the end, the cost is terrible but so is the lure to us.
We see it move and shine and swallow it.
We say we are and this is what we are as to say we should be and this is what to be and this is how.
But, oh, it isn’t so.

by William Bronk | |

Metonymy as an Approach to a Real World

 Whether what we sense of this world
is the what of this world only, or the what 
of which of several possible worlds
--which what?--something of what we sense 
may be true, may be the world, what it is, what we sense.
For the rest, a truce is possible, the tolerance of travelers, eating foreign foods, trying words that twist the tongue, to feel that time and place, not thinking that this is the real world.
Conceded, that all the clocks tell local time; conceded, that "here" is anywhere we bound and fill a space; conceded, we make a world: is something caught there, contained there, something real, something which we can sense? Once in a city blocked and filled, I saw the light lie in the deep chasm of a street, palpable and blue, as though it had drifted in from say, the sea, a purity of space.