Poems Inspired by Denise Levertov
#DeniseLevertov
Poems inspired by the American poet Priscilla Denise Levertov. Here you'll find poetry using the style, themes or characters found in poems by Denise Levertov. Along with poems about Levertov herself, including praise, criticism and memorials.
California Love (Denise Levertov Tribute)
As you sleep you dream of California,
Always draped and encased in gold.
You always watch as the short, cold
Days of winter and its dimly lit aura
Disappears into the pale, amber light.
Will you be thinking of her? Because
Although you will take one long pause
To admire her in her glory in the night,
But what about all the other seasons?
Because you can be loving her during
All the good memories, but enduring
The fire together is not in the reasons
In which you have loved her the best.
You are...
Always draped and encased in gold.
You always watch as the short, cold
Days of winter and its dimly lit aura
Disappears into the pale, amber light.
Will you be thinking of her? Because
Although you will take one long pause
To admire her in her glory in the night,
But what about all the other seasons?
Because you can be loving her during
All the good memories, but enduring
The fire together is not in the reasons
In which you have loved her the best.
You are...
#love
#beauty
#home
#memorial
#DeniseLevertov
484 reads
6 Comments
(The) Web
A string vibrates,
a thousand hairs raise
on the flat plain of reception.
To run free on a mind with great abandon
a contrition traces it's steps
linking it's contrivances
making dark seem light.
Spun sugar, spiderlike and
unwoven at great speed;
a neural acceleration,
a locus unwinding.
All praise this intricacy
tied to my elation,
palpating my senses.
All praise this flytrap
forming forevers traceability.
Sweet hubris of...
a thousand hairs raise
on the flat plain of reception.
To run free on a mind with great abandon
a contrition traces it's steps
linking it's contrivances
making dark seem light.
Spun sugar, spiderlike and
unwoven at great speed;
a neural acceleration,
a locus unwinding.
All praise this intricacy
tied to my elation,
palpating my senses.
All praise this flytrap
forming forevers traceability.
Sweet hubris of...
#technology
#DeniseLevertov
583 reads
6 Comments
The Quest (The Edge Of A Dream)
He hung on the edge of a dream,
wanting to go further,
to ponder, plunder it's depths.
It resisted him, but not for lack of desire;
it needed him to keep longing.
He scaled a cliff to get here,
he left all convention behind.
The dream wanted his attention,
it pined to reveal itself,
but it hungered for nothing else
other than that.
His pursuit was all that mattered in the end.
His reasons were mere rocks
tumbling under his feet.
...
wanting to go further,
to ponder, plunder it's depths.
It resisted him, but not for lack of desire;
it needed him to keep longing.
He scaled a cliff to get here,
he left all convention behind.
The dream wanted his attention,
it pined to reveal itself,
but it hungered for nothing else
other than that.
His pursuit was all that mattered in the end.
His reasons were mere rocks
tumbling under his feet.
...
#love
#LifeGoals
#DeniseLevertov
630 reads
14 Comments
Life at War ( after Denise Levertov )
To compensate for my father’s
muted choice, I turned to poetry—
backpacks of word folded
precisely as parachutes.
Bullets from a magazine
shell-shocked my faculties—
ricocheted off the metal floor
of a downed chopper in ‘Nam.
Levertov referenced Rilke—
formless lumps he carried about;
the irony, or not
referencing her raw dough:
pebbles that plague memory
decades after the same war:
Rilke’s bitterness, Levertov’s weight
both buried mines in my...
muted choice, I turned to poetry—
backpacks of word folded
precisely as parachutes.
Bullets from a magazine
shell-shocked my faculties—
ricocheted off the metal floor
of a downed chopper in ‘Nam.
Levertov referenced Rilke—
formless lumps he carried about;
the irony, or not
referencing her raw dough:
pebbles that plague memory
decades after the same war:
Rilke’s bitterness, Levertov’s weight
both buried mines in my...
#soldiers
#war
#LifeAsAWriter
#PTSD
#DeniseLevertov
988 reads
10 Comments
Modes of Being ( after Denise Levertov )
March wipes
its muddy boots.
Spring advances:
basilicas of tulip, forget me nots, blue—
the color of black birds.
The park bench facing east of an empty sun—
tangerine skirt, blouse akimbo
amid purple limbs.
Near the Northern Triangle
a migrant woman is raped
by an indigenous guide
as her child sleeps.
The park yawns
its saffron teeth emerge;
a nocturnal atmosphere awakens—
its stridulatory organs rub in unison ...
its muddy boots.
Spring advances:
basilicas of tulip, forget me nots, blue—
the color of black birds.
The park bench facing east of an empty sun—
tangerine skirt, blouse akimbo
amid purple limbs.
Near the Northern Triangle
a migrant woman is raped
by an indigenous guide
as her child sleeps.
The park yawns
its saffron teeth emerge;
a nocturnal atmosphere awakens—
its stridulatory organs rub in unison ...
#war
#suffering
#inequality
#poverty
#DeniseLevertov
1037 reads
8 Comments
Where are They?
Legions of old
once assembled
fervent voices spoke as one
Where are they?
Once hand-in-hand
Strangers yet bothers and sisters
Chanting out, wanting to be there
Where are they?
Old now
Age muting devotion
Comfort muffled rage
Where are they?
Progeny
Two generations, more
Coddled by false justice
Symbolism over substance
Justice warrior avatars
Where have they gone?
once assembled
fervent voices spoke as one
Where are they?
Once hand-in-hand
Strangers yet bothers and sisters
Chanting out, wanting to be there
Where are they?
Old now
Age muting devotion
Comfort muffled rage
Where are they?
Progeny
Two generations, more
Coddled by false justice
Symbolism over substance
Justice warrior avatars
Where have they gone?
#regret
#politics
#aging #DeniseLevertov
#aging #DeniseLevertov
597 reads
3 Comments
Being Observed In Lesser Than
The daily routine of others
never seems the way for her;
when traffic mills in gridlocked streets
with lines of yellow at a standstill.
Where a pedestrian believes
she’ll make better time,
until the subway entrance;
that disgorges commuters
up and out into the light of day.
Some racing for buses that slow
as people break away from the curb
and push frantically between,
to dodge and sprint
to the other side of the street.
In the midst...
never seems the way for her;
when traffic mills in gridlocked streets
with lines of yellow at a standstill.
Where a pedestrian believes
she’ll make better time,
until the subway entrance;
that disgorges commuters
up and out into the light of day.
Some racing for buses that slow
as people break away from the curb
and push frantically between,
to dodge and sprint
to the other side of the street.
In the midst...
#lust
#women
#men
#city
#DeniseLevertov
840 reads
21 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems Inspired by Denise Levertov
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Ahavati
#DeniseLevertov is curated by Ahavati (Tams).