Best Famous Jerome Rothenberg Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Jerome Rothenberg poems. This is a select list of the best famous Jerome Rothenberg poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Jerome Rothenberg poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of jerome rothenberg poems.

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Written by Jerome Rothenberg | I Vent My Wrath On Animals I came alive when things went crazy. I pulled the plug on the reports of sturm & drang When someone signaled I left open what I could not close. I broke a covenant that was more fierce than murder. I vent my wrath on animals pretending they will turn divine. I open up rare certainties that test free will. I take from animals a place in which the taste of death pours from their mouths & drowns them. I support a lesser surface. I draw comfort from the knowledge of their being.

Written by Jerome Rothenberg | I Exceed My Limits I have tried an altenstil & dropped it. My skin is blazing, blazing too the way I see your faces in the glass. With the circle of the sun behind me I exceed my limits. My garments are from the beginning & my dwelling place is in my self(J. Dee) It makes me want to fly the stars below the paradise of poets lost in space. I am the father of a lie unspoken. I can make my mind go blank then paw at you my fingers in your mouth. I think of God when fucking. Is it wrong to pray without a hat to reject the call to grace? I long to flatter presidents & kings. I long for manna. I will be the first to sail for home the last to flaunt my longings. I will undo my garments & stand before you naked. In winter I will curse their god & die.

Written by Jerome Rothenberg | I Will Not Eat My Poem I kill for pleasure not for gain. A man much more than you my hands find knives & flash them. I am guilty in my works while in their eyes I seek redemption. I find myself forgotten angry at the thought of bread. I will not eat my poem(A. Artaud) much less be raped by it. I have a home but sit with others shirtless, waiting for the moon to rise. I am a warrior grown old. The number on my ticket tells the time. I seldom wash & wear a string around my throat until it crumbles. See yourself for love the fool advises & the wise man murmurs Spill it now! Your glass is never empty! I see your arm the color of wild lilacs. It is not too late for memory. Days together are like days apart.

Written by Jerome Rothenberg | Feckless With Disgust All erasure of pain is like the contrary of dust that weighs dark in my lungs when I am feckless with disgust. I stroke & poke my loins before they tighten. My feet stomp fields of color reminding me of something I once knew. Dying frees the spirit from the mind. We plod along regardless of the pain. Soon we grow big & fat. We stop forgetting, far off from whatever binds us mindlessly to empty space. Beginning here we reignite desire. We will surrender what is far from us & call it love.

Written by Jerome Rothenberg | I Am Not A Native Of This Place I am not a native of this palce.(Yosimasu G.) nor yet a stranger. With the rst of you I hunt for shade my boots half off to let the air through. My head is on my shoulders & is real. I plant cucumbers twice a year & count the bounty. Often I read the papers standing. I am clean & pure. I carry buckets from the pond more than my arms can bear. Under a full moon fish appear like flies in amber. The words of foreigners invade my thoughts. The hungry hordes surround me wailing through their beards. My fingers tingle feigning speech. I havea a feeling that my tongue speaks words because my throat keeps burning.

Written by Jerome Rothenberg | A Missal Like A Bone Link by link I can disown no link.(R. Duncan) I search the passage someone sends & find a missal like a bone. My hands are white with sweat. I lay my burden down the ground below me shrinking. The more my fingers ply these keys the more words daunt me. I am what a haunt averts, what you who once spoke from my dream no longer tell. The book is paradise. An odor is a clue to what was lost. I seek & speak son of a father with no home or heart. I bantereed with a friend that there are speeds beyond the speed of light. I spun around. the calculus of two plus two, the mystery of false attachments, still persists. I settled for a lesser light a circumstance found that my words rang true.