September 4, 2014

Paula Bonnell


I want you to know
what a simple thing it is,
what a plain, what a humdrum.
I want you to know
what a grey thing it is,
what a gritty, what a numb.
It is a golden thing, it is
a loud, it is a fabulous flower—
Oh it is a solid thing,
a red thing, a steady;
it is a quiet thing,
a dense thing, a ruddy.

from Rattle #43, Spring 2014
Tribute to Love Poems

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Paula Bonnell: “Poetry and I met when I was fifteen and Poetry a couple of thousand or so. We’ve had our ups and downs, but I still hanker for Poetry, and new poems arrive when they feel like it. I try to help them land where other people can hear them too.” (website)

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September 7, 2009

Paula Bonnell


I am taking a vacation on the left bank
of your heart. I wear my beret
slouched to the left, dangle a smoldering
Gauloise carelessly (in the American manner)
in my right hand, take long walks
by the Seine of your feelings. Sometimes
the river barely moves, I think, but it
is always there, threading the bridges,
changing from gloss to black
in the variorum of sun and shadow.
Book vendors are everywhere;
I am in my element, and free.
Such a place to stroll!
It reminds me of the Paris,
the sweet Montmartre we will
never walk, mon homme,
and I want to send you
a postcard. The usual,
and heartfelt at that:
Wish you were here—

from Rattle #24, Winter 2005

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