Jill Osier
They stand scattered and not
facing each other. Like black-eyed
susans lining the highway, or sisters
angry in some small kitchen.
from the book
The Solace Is Not the Lullaby /
Yale University Press
What Sparks Poetry is a serialized feature in which we invite poets to explore experiences and ideas that spark new poems.
In our current series, Object Lessons, we’re thinking about the relationship between the experienced and imagined world. We have asked our editors and invited poets to present one of their own poems in combination with the object that inspired it, and to meditate on the magical journey from object to poem.
- August 13, 2020
Rainer Maria Rilke (translated from the German by Steve Kronen)
They’d grown used to him there, but when they lit
the kitchen lamp and the flame
fluttered in the dark, he, the one without a name,
seemed all the more un-nameable.
- August 12, 2020
Carlos Drummond de Andrade (translated from the Portuguese by Mark Strand)
The children looked at the sky: it was not forbidden.
Mouth, nose, eyes were open. There was no danger.
- August 11, 2020
Karen Solie
My many regrets have become the great passion of my life.
One may also grow fond of what there isn't
much of.
- August 10, 2020
Jennifer Atkinson
Soaked in tallow, the spikes burn down to an acrid smolder
Over a feast of winnowed thistle, one black seed for each hag spirit.
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