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Quote by Betsy James

“The steam at the kettle’s spout, The flame at the candle’s wick, Rest on an emptiness Invisible, quick. The word at the poet’s lip, The line at the painter’s brush, Rest on an emptiness. Hush. *Shrine poem.* Welling-in-the-Mountains.”

Quote by Betsy James

Book:Roadsouls
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Roadsouls

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Betsy James

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“Rambling by Afaa Michael Weaver In general population, census is consensus—ain't nowhere to run to in these walls, walls like a mind— We visitors stand in a yellow circle so the tower can frisk us with light, finger the barrels on thirsty rifles. I got rambling, rambling on my mind In general population, madness runs swift through the river changing, changing in hearts, men tacked in their chairs, resigned to hope we weave into air, talking this and talking that and one brutha asks Tell us how to get these things They got, these houses, these cars. We want the real revolution. Things... I got rambling, got rambling on my mind In the yellow circle the night stops like a boy shot running from a Ruger 9mm carrying .44 magnum shells, a sista crying in the glass booth to love's law, to violence of backs bent over to the raw libido of men, cracking, cracking, crack... I got rambling, rambling on my mind”

PoetryPoemPoetry Quotes
Book:The Plum Flower Dance: Poems 1985 to 2005
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“Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows The West Wind goes walking, and about the walls it goes. What news from the West, oh wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight? Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight? ‘I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey; I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more. The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.’ Oh, Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar. But you came not from the empty lands where no men are. From the mouth of the sea the South Wind flies, From the sand hills and the stones; The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans What news from the South, oh sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve? Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve. ‘Ask me not where he doth dwell--so many bones there lie On the white shores and on the black shores under the stormy sky; So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing sea. Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!’ Oh Boromir! Beyond the gate the Seaward road runs South, But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey seas mouth. From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, And past the roaring falls And loud and cold about the Tower its loud horn calls. What news from the North, oh mighty wind, do you bring to me today? What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away. ‘Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought. His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest; And Rauros, Golden Rauros Falls, bore him upon its breast.’ Oh Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze To Rauros, Golden Rauros Falls until the end of days.”

DeathPoemLotrBoromir
Author:J.R.R. Tolkien
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