Judith Skillman Short Poems

Famous Short Judith Skillman Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Judith Skillman. A collection of the all-time best Judith Skillman short poems


by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.

Forgive me if I have laughed
in your chapels,
forgive me if I have slammed
the hospital door,
forgive me for the noise,
for life,
for the love to which
I have no right. 
Forgive me for not resembling you.


by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése

La nuit s'ouvre, l'orage,
accouplement mauve,
boursouflure. 
Le ciel chargè
comme un bateau marchand
jette l'ancre.
Le danger plus lourd
chaque instant
distille une moiteur
de serre. 

Miroitante de mercure,
la vallèe des sept Meuses
souffle la brume
par ses narines grises. 

La vallèe a rejoint la nuit,
deux femelles humides
que l'orage pènétre. 

Et moi, debout,
dans le vent anxieux,
j'espére la dèchirure.

I Am  Create an image from this poem
by John Clare
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.

I am the red brand
on the shoulder of the condemned,
the gallows and the rope,
the ax and the block,
the whip and the cross. 
I am the lion's tooth
in the flesh of the gazelle.
In my veins I have
the blood of the slave trader. 

Hangman,
I have deserved the hunger of the wolves. 

My victims have left me nothing
but their deaths.

by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése.

Le volcan en attente au fond de nous
ronge, creuse, tremble,
soupése ses chances. 
La dètresse s'enroule,
se tasse comme une b?te malade.
Nous sommes mèconnaissables,
uniques,
avec la certitude de notre fèrocitè.

by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.

The waiting volcano inside us
gnaws, digs, trembles,
weighs its chances. 
Distress coils up,
shrinks silent like a sick beast.
We are unrecognizable,
unique
in the certainty of our ferocity.


by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése.

Tu m'as donnè une arme
Dans le troupeau humain,
tu as lancè tes mots
commes des pierres.
Les blessures furent
bonnes lècher.
Tu as rèveillè le feulement. 
Tu t'es donnè comme on prend.

by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése

Je ne sais qui tu caches
sous ton visage inventè,
ton visage volè l'oiseau,
emprisonnè de cendre rouge. 
Je vais t'aimer comme on meurt. 

Je vais te garder
pour les annèes venir.
Tu seras si apprivoisè,
si incroyable,
mon ètrange animal,
avec tes lévres ouverte
sur un sourire perdu. 

Je boirai ton haleine
et je saurai qui tu caches.

by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.

I don't know who you're hiding
behind your mask,
your face stolen from a bird,
imprisoned by red ashes. 
I will love you the way one dies. 

I will keep you
for years to come,
you will be so tame,
so unbelievable,
my strange animal,
with your lips opening
on a lost smile. 

I'll drink your breath
and I'll know who you are hiding.

by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.

You've given me a weapon.
you've flung your words
into the human herd
like stones.
The wounds were
good to lick.
You have woken the tiger. 
You've given as one takes.

by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése

Je suis le fer rouge
sur l'èpaule du condamnè,
le gibet et la corde,
la hache et le billot,
le fouet et la croix. 
Je suis la dent du lion
dans la chair de la gazelle.
J'ai dans mes veines
le sang de nègriers. 

Bourreau,
j'ai mèritè la faim des loups. 

Les victimes ne m'ont laissè
que leur mort.

by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.

Night opens to the storm,
a mauve coupling,
swollen. 
The sky, laden
like a merchant ship,
throws off its anchor.
Danger, heavier
each instant,
exudes the mugginess
of a greenhouse. 

Shimmering like mercury
The Valley of the Seven Muses
breathes mist
through its gray nostrils. 

The valley of has rejoined the night,
two humid females
the storm penetrates. 

And I, standing here
in the anxious wind,
I wait for the tearing apart.

Pardon  Create an image from this poem
by Judith Skillman
 Poem by Anne-Marie Derése.

Pardon si j'ai ri
dans vos chapelles,
pardon si j'ai claquè
la porte de l'h?pital,
pardon pour le bruit,
pour la vie,
pour l'amour auquel
je n'avais pas droit. 
Pardon de ne pas vous ressembler.

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