The stillness you prize.
Won’t prize you back. Two beefsteaks.
Ripening on a windowsill. A purple tray.
Piled with coal. From the field.
Of solemn brothers calling.
Your name in unison you learn.
Men are irrelevant but.
Persistent symmetries are not.
Become the many-roomed house.
You walk through in dreams. Show me.
On the great blue door where it hurts.
This is the season where grace.
Is the likeliest. Where the uttermost.
Angels heavy our galaxy with.
Their sound. A silver ring.
Lost in the bedsheets is still.
A silver ring. You can either be.
More holy or more full but.
Not both. See how the hot.
Element glows red. How.
Honey cools the tea. Suppose.
There was a reason for it.
Suppose there wasn’t.
© Kaveh Akbar 🔒
Some other random works of this poet:
- Forfeiting My Mystique
- A Boy Steps Into the Water
- Morning Prayer with Rat King
- Tower of Babel
- The New World
- Despite My Efforts Even My Prayers Have Turned into Threats
- Waiting for the Twelfth
- Against Vanity
- River of Milk
- Look, the Human Is Shrinking
- The Perfect Poem
- What Use Is Knowing Anything If No One Is Around
- My Kingdom for a Murmur of Fanfare
- Pilgrim Bell
- I Wouldn’t Even Know What to Do with a Third Chance
- No Is a Complete Sentence
- Ways to Harm a Thing
- What Seems Like Joy
- Against Dying
- Being in This World Makes Me Feel Like a Time Traveler
- Exciting The Canvas
- Portrait of the Alcoholic Floating in Space with Severed Umbilicus
- Reza’s Restaurant, Chicago, 1997
- Orchids are Sprouting From the Floorboards