Apartheid Museum - Johannesburg |
Visited the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg yesterday. It is probably superflupus for me to say that this completely fucked me up. But... it completely fucked me up. This is my second vis...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Tue, 16 Sep 2008 04:06:00 PST |
mansion - poem |
little send-off for my mom last night. she heads back home tomorrow. with a few friends and family we watched the obama speech and it reminded me of how friends would come over when ...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Fri, 29 Aug 2008 03:36:00 PST |
First poem since May |
first poem since like... May.
avoidance
I have been avoiding this
for such a long time.
It seems that while I slept
I have become a man
I have nothing in common with the sun
except once while I...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Wed, 27 Aug 2008 12:07:00 PST |
Light in a Valley of Bone |
Light in a Valley of Bone
And now you might say again,
you deserve none of this,
as light mornings its way
onto your bed, to your hands;
but first, into the valley
between a beloved's belly an...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Tue, 10 Jun 2008 03:27:00 PST |
a duo of poems - Defense - 1988 and cocaine |
I've re-conceptualized the upcoming manuscript a little bit, so that its two parts are now both going to be called GULLY and maybe the manuscript will even be in tryptich as it were, with a thir...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Thu, 29 May 2008 01:30:00 PST |
What I learned from 30/30 |
I am a lucky man. Around me is a community of artists off whom I feed so fully, that I don't know how I could ever be without them. We have just come off the most brilliant writing experie...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Wed, 14 May 2008 02:04:00 PST |
Day 29, Poem 29 - Ghost. Ghost. Ghost. |
a ghazal for Frida folks...
Ghost. Ghost. Ghost.
(after Frida Kahlo's Self-Portrait with Loose Hair)
the grain grows in my shadow
the body breaks itself into shadow
how long will I be shrouded...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Thu, 01 May 2008 12:06:00 PST |
Day 28, Poem 28 - revival |
revival
the morning is crisp
so crisp its lungs move
in the witching-hour air
with the drapes drawn back
you can see it if you stare
far away into the dark
shawled over the city
the city is...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Thu, 01 May 2008 11:55:00 PST |
Day 30, Poem 30 - The Deceased Dimas Rosas |
Booyah!! Bitches!! 30 poems in 30 days and damn if Frida wont call you out of your bed for the last three!The Deceased Dimas Rosas(after Frida Kahlo's The Deceased Dimas Rosas at Three Years of Age)...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Thu, 01 May 2008 12:22:00 PST |
Day 27, Poem 27 - a scattering of bones |
a scattering of bones
we are a balance of bones
thrown one way for divination
the next for warfare
Each morning brings us a sun
of our own making the froth
of all our angers all our hesitations
co...
Posted by roger bonair-agard on Wed, 30 Apr 2008 02:01:00 PST |
