Thursday, July 31, 2008

Sleeping Where There Were

sleeping where there were
no stars, we all dreamed of them

and the light green rustling

was a music not

everyone could hear

in my dream I tread
on starlight by mistake

but light was never


or put out-

mary angela douglas 30 july 2008

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Walking Straight Into The Fairytale Frame

walking straight into the fairytale frame
I collided with stars and
golden cobwebs

no one took me seriously

but I didn't care:

there was so much room there-

to breathe

mary angela douglas 8 july 2008

The Beauty Of What Is Difficult

the beauty of what is difficult
flows far beyond our hands 
it bubbles in streams

where there are no fish

no container can contain it

you don't even wish for it
you wouldn't know what to call it
and wishes must have names
to be pinned like butterflies
in a landscape where even
the clouds can't move

oh but it's not on anyone's map

or payroll

but descends like some green dream

dead-center in midwinter
and you, you were so drear

or like snow when you

thought, "swelter"

swift and instantaneous
though you watched for it by
your sad windows long


unbidden by even

the quickest, dearest knowledge

eluding the heart to the point of
then doubling back the
difficulty of what is beautiful,
the poem, among other things, unsaid.

walking backwards into your new

life you thought with trepidation brighter
and better than before than

any precarious, quicksilver, late-lamented

but do not lament or brace
yourself for really bad news
it's too diamond-flecked it's marigold undimmed
this, ever after forever will be

spliced on a reel

that we're not turning

just this beautiful

just this difficult

my friend

mary angela douglas 24 july 2008

On The Assassination Of Benazir Bhutto 12/27/07

here let us chronicle the
futile detonations
of the Rose

in every age, the same

who is standing guard

oh stand with me on this

bridge of air on the sharp blade
of a world-wide

intake of breath suspended

only don't look down-

take my hand

don't take my hand
it doesn't matter

in the country of Benazir

the heart of the Rose is

shattered again

the heart of the word

a golden script signed off on


a math problem for the more astute;

how many armies would it take to defend her

if such a heart could not be defended,

what are these garrisons for
let the stars collapse inward

to gather ebbing light

for the rose is broken
from the Stem we

occupied unbelievable space

as the shadows in your eyes darkened
prefiguring death

unbelievable space as

the heart of the Rose stood still
at close range

not at close range?

it doesn't matter when
even at a distance we

hear the ripped mantle of

as though it were in the next room

take my hand

do not take my hand

I would fall from this

bridge of air, alone

or lean into the wind from

the high tower of sorrow

to learn your radiance

let these frail
improvisations endure
the wide-world over

the soul is sovereign over

every terror
the soul that loves in the face
of death
blaze and blaze on


mary angela douglas december 29-31, 2007 11:28 a.m. 12/31/07

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I Stood Where There Was No Singing

I stood where there was no singing
breathing myself into the final
color of roses

I did not salute the emptiness

I lived where the first stroke of

the first letter of an alphabet
was only used to cut down

and I was cut down

but from that unfurnished crawl-space

I folded myself into
the unmired magnitude of stars-

mary angela douglas 16 july 2008

Me Quede Donde No Habia Canto
me quede donde no habia canto
respirando a mi mismo en el color
final de las rosas

y yo no salude al vacio

yo vivia en el primer golpe de

la primera letra de un alfabeto
solo se utilizo para reducir

y yo estaba cortado.

pero desde ese espacio de rastreo sin amueblar

yo me dobla en la magnitud de estrellas

no en el cieno.

mary angela douglas Spanish translation from original english july 16, 2011

Living An Exiled American Life

living an exiled American life
I carried gladly one spark
of the light of Heaven

tuning my remaindered harp

casting imperceptible music
into the void of all conversation

gaze in your own heart

Yeats said
the holy tree is growing there

and I say, softly

yet with resolution
even if they think your
ship in a bottle is going nowhere

one mere iridescence

floating from a quarter strand of
your unremaindered soul

matters more than an entire country

mary angela douglas 7 july 2008

I Built A Hedge

I built a hedge
between two countries
the one I had to live in,

the one I dreamed of
and then I found a way
to remain

in the second country

mary angela douglas 2 july 2008

My More Than Mothlike Heart Alights

my more than mothlike heart alights
dreading no candle
not even the sun's

light of very Light

you alone are
the touchstone

of all flight

we cannot guarantee anything

watching the floods take everything
except that we are Light's alone

even without second sight

even at sunset

mary angela douglas 16 july 2008

I Want a Poem Like A Faberge Egg

I want a poem like a faberge egg
crack open the mystical shell
to find

lilies emerging from pink enamel;

carriages with spiny
golden wheels

this fairyland of minutiae

jewel upon jewel, a dream enclosed-

under a heaven brought down to scale

infinite snow forever turning in

the mind's own music

and no assassinations

mary angela douglas 8 july 2008

Take My Last Sapphire Wish To Use On

take my last sapphire wish to use on
your best day.
I wished to be the light around your face
that cannot set-

the long wave returning
not the one that forgets-
the harbor filled above

sea-level dreams.

take my last emerald wish
to use on your worst day.
the ocean is infinite for a reason:

it mirrors our hearts

mary angela douglas march 2008