Poetry / Poets / Writers / Writing

Poems by Charles Bane Jr.

Modo de dire

Michelangelo cannot catch his breath. He
says nothing to his companions. How do you
say, the dust is numberless lights that fall
in fiery trails on clothes and hair and moving
hands? How do you say I labor here as the Maker
made, in shrift, a whole that echoes in my
every strike, and bathes my face
in rain? My hands move
in dreams I cannot show. Go home,
take wine. My neck lies on David’s like a brother


It is night; shall we be together?

It is night: shall we be together?
Shall we move into the flame
that reaches from your table
to a sky without a breath of God
but for what we make in genesis
when sleep is swept away? Shall
we set birds and gentle deer upon
the field where I am utterly undone?
My love, I did not know you
could bring light so close I
would hunger at my work
for dark.


Charles Bane, Jr. is the American author of The Chapbook ( Curbside Splendor, 2011) and Love Poems ( Kelsay Books, 2014). His work was described by the Huffington Post as “not only standing on the shoulders of giants, but shrinking them.”  Creator of the Meaning of Poetry series for The Gutenberg Project, he is a current nominee as Poet Laureate of Florida.



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