Poetry Reading #2

Poetry Reading #3

This week’s poetry reading includes thirteen poems from The Naturalist. As always, the text of the poems are below and their titles link to the original post. This is the final poetry reading for National Poetry Month, but based on the positive feedback I have received, I’ll be doing more readings in the future. Enjoy! Pouring Tea [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-133] Gold liquid back lit,by the sunshine comingand going behind frozen clouds,forms a glowing pillar abovethe dandelion surfacebraided first then,as the flow slows,a cylinder becomes wavyas impact climbs up the columnback into the teapot.Three to four minutes beforeat one hundred eighty degrees,the clear water dividedballs of rolled leaves,half on top, others belowslowly breathing, curlinginto the space between,regenerating their sun-capturingplant form, but onlyin appearance while raysfell on deaf cells and shimmeredlike old bronze door knobs. Drinking Tea [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-137]Fog forms in the late afternoonon wire-frame glasses and catchespale sun from between tall buildings,blinding the wearer from their journal.Ceramic cup scrapes its saucer,scouring inelegantly for its seat,finding it only to leave again.Tapping over and over like charcoalsearching the walls of a cave. Forgiveness [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-134] There is an old cast iron fencethat I walk along to sit at a barand drink burning whiskeyor eat stale popcorn. Outsidea gnarled dog, who has been taughtnot to love, pulls at his leashand collar and bares his teeth.It would be rude not to greet him. Grace [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-163] Phantom form of a sparrowrests in the soft yellow grass,beside the tired storm drain. Collecting fallen leaves under her wing,holding them close to her white bones,hopeless against the coming June rain. Soon the leaves will break free,she will float away to feed flowers,consumed by the world,better for the love she gave it. Space #1 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-186] Pin pricks of light skitter the blue-black expanse,visible waves of invisible energy in betweenlift and pull the stars across the surface of the pond. Space #2 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-187] The tree you lean againstbranches into a galaxy of trees,grows in a forest long and dark as the sky,reaches higher until it ignites. Space #3 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-188] Heron pulls up from the water,her long beak tracing first the riverbankthen lumbering clouds over head. Ducks walk on ice by the shoreand pick at leaves and twigs floating slowly.All together, they take to the wateras the sun finally finds an opening to the fishand bends light across the length of the current. Heron finds no comfort here,prefers to hunt in the shadows.She picks up her tired legsand draws a silent blue-grey bandbeneath the buckling willow. Space #4 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-189] As I move through these woodsspace feels more and more rigid,all other things are stubborngoing about the tasks that make them—mouse is combing through grass for bugs,the oak tree is drinking sunlight and breathingdeep breaths that float away as clouds.Owl was watching from the jagged leaves,but closed her eyes to get some rest.There are fungi turning deathinto toadstools for the elk and beetlesrest in the mushroom grove and brawl in the dirt.The only thing that feels flexible is time,whiskers twitching in slow motion,each ancestor tree forming a silhouettearound the branches I see nowshaking as owl floats away. Space #5 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-190] Breathe in and out and let the calmwater glint in your eyes, there are broken wavesand broken driftwood and cracked shellson the rocky shore as well as feathersand other lost things and maybe thats a bone,how carelessly they have been placed here and there! Oh, how the spruce leans for the water,trunk bending uncomfortably over stonesand what was once a spruce friend.Breathe and lets figure outall these little messes you have here, Lake. When was the last time you cleaned debrisoff your long white shore? Breathe!I tell myself all the ways I would make this lakebetter and none of them are right.I walk along the shore and feel coldand blessed and small. The Shape of Rain [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-119] Weeks and no shadowsfrom the arching sunbehind the cloud walljust great bland buildingsmelting into the streetsand soggy shoes dryingat the bottom of the stairsaway from the sounds of teacoming to a boil and coolingtoo far from warm blankets. The Shape of the Sun [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-118] Cold wind from the waterpulls ribbons of cloudfrom charcoal mountainsdown the city streets,morning light castinggold lines along the sidewalk,washing trash through the gutter,illuminating huddled bodies,backs to the glowing range,faces without sun. Recursion [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-155] There is something in the sound of the woodpecker,in the weight of the moose shoulders,that is also in the branching of the mapleand reflected in the roots below the green sea. The cracking sound of beak on bark echoesalong the paths through the forestthat fragment at each moment of past indecision,weaving in and out of this moment. There is something in the school of minnows,in the wildebeest migration across crocodile river,swirling tadpoles in thunderstorm pond,drying up into the sky that turns red then black then blue. There is something in flowers—each and every flower that unfurls and fades,falling onto the ground under shadow—that is like a memory, like a cloud of memories,bright and brittle as each neuronal flash. Hope [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-191] Flowers open cautiously, joyously,ignorant of the forecasted rain,content to be as they will be in their time. One may be thought of as a tragedy—to see these delicate blues and yellowstopple to the earth so soon and float away— but together they are a triumphendlessly spillingbright colors into this world. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit micah.substack.com [https://micah.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Poetry Reading #2

On the second episode, I read the Untitled series. This series has been spread out over several months (the first was Poem #9 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-9]!), so it was really great to read them all together. I have have copied the text below so you can read along and linked the titles to the original posts. Don’t forget to record your favorite Naturalist poems to have them featured here at the end of National Poetry Month or check out these other ways to celebrate [https://micah.substack.com/p/national-poetry-month]. You can email a recording of yourself reading one of my poems to micahluedtke@gmail.com [micahluedtke@gmail.com]. If you enjoy The Naturalist, please consider sharing this poetry reading with others! Untitled #1 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-9] Windy weeks on the coastpushed out by snowstormthen again the bitter cold. Our hands form heat chambersaround our nose and mouthand smoke like tiny chimneys. The breaths limp frozen upto join the low hanging cloudsthat glow above the city at night. One long yellow stripe across the sky. Untitled #2 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-104] Carefully searching for a momentof joy to have to yourselfsomewhere among the aldersjust after morning or nightfalllooking under every rock. Untitled #3 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-145] Pressed flowers in this bookare a funny window into springtimelooking out by the light of the fireplace.They were never meant to last this long,you were suppose to find them—poor wildflowers,they have never seen the cold like this,haven’t seen snow before, they don’t even knowwhich month pulls the red leaves down from the maple. Untitled #4 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-146] After the birds quiet downfor their midmorning roostand the last song is over— only then do shadows play,sneaking through windowsin the very tired house. The glinting vase of cinnamonis alone on the kitchen table,showing off for no one. Untitled #5 Crowds of starlings standwith idling wings ignoringthe bluejay mischief above.They occasionally swirl up,knee high like cold creamfalling in clear tea. There is nosugar in the tea or real threatto the starlings and so a newarrangement is agreed upon:some birds move into the bushor away to find different seed.The cup is white and filledwith amber liquid and cooling,unperturbed despite all the chattering. Untitled #6 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-184] There are so many chipmunksplaying despite the steady rainin this part of the woods, cars tooand long black stripes of pavement.Along the water the ducks still landas they have for so many years,but now they dine on bread.I love the smell of wet leaves.Maybe the part of me that hungers,for meat and cookies and peace, knowsdeep down what this damp matter will becomewhen it decays. Untitled #7 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-192] Twenty pine cones gatheredat the feet of a young pine,huddled together for warmthamong the ice cold due drops of morning.Maybe the wind invited them to meetor some brown-furred and fastidious creaturehad a moment of fleeting aesthetic choice.I read somewhere the cones grow legsin the middle of the night and come togetherto talk about their dreams. Untitled #8 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-194] She can be found in the soilnibbling plant matteror washing on the shore at nightwith luminescent glow. She is the tallest tree in the forestyear after year after yearand every day she falls to the floor,raises a civilization of millipedes. She comes from the sky and crawlsdown the mountain pass to desiccate farms,picks the salmon from the riverwith her talons. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit micah.substack.com [https://micah.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Poetry Reading #1

Hello All! This is my first attempt at sending audio out on Substack. Because the sounds of poetry are so important, I want to use this feature of the platform to revisit some of the poems I’ve sent out. If there is interest in this format I might start to include recordings of every poem and even expand beyond just reading the poems to include analysis or other content in audio form. If you have feedback or recommendations please reply to this email or comment on this post. I’ve copied the poems I’m reading below for your reference. As a reminder, I would love to hear my poems read in your voice as well. Most phones have a very good voice memo app or something similar which makes it easy to record your favorite poem from The Naturalist and email it to me at micahluedtke@gmail.com. If you aren’t feeling so bold, but still want to hear your favorite Naturalist poems read, send me an email and tell which ones you want to hear! Be well. Earth #1 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-178] Eagle looks down with hungry eyes,searching through leaves and stone,existing above all else, regal and thin. World fades into its parts: There is smoke and waterand nothing else. Earth #2 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-179] Five thousand generationsof wings and dance,unnumbered new beaksfrom speckled shells,countless hairs made nests. The forest has changedand the fish in the seamake new circles,the birds must trace. Their verses change,but they still singabout all the same things. Earth #3 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-181] We would call it flying,but the Neutrino is still. It watches the universe—spinning around in a frozen blur,everything that ever lived, pandas and dinosaurs and plague,pass all at once and forever— it doesn’t feel a thing. Earth #4 [https://micah.substack.com/p/poem-182] I have been a treefor one hundred fifty years made strong in millennium of family,loam and fungus. I was my parents’ dreamwhen you came to this place stumbling,the forest floor was dark. By curse or grace,I sprouted. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit micah.substack.com [https://micah.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]