Playlist: Poet Susan Cook Poems
Compiled By: Susan J. Cook
Poet Susan Cook Poems are written in a form she calls the American Sonnet. After submitting her collection "Blue: American Sonnets" to the Beatrice Hawley contest, sponsored by Alice James Books, she has continued to find new intricacies in this form, some of which are gathered here. She has now composed well over 1000. Traditional romance has always been the sonnet's domain but Poet Susan Cook Poems reminds us that human passion is called upon many times and in many ways in the tasks of living.
Sonnet for Looking for China
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :59
From the Spring 2023 Maine Arts Journal. A poem on the intricacies of grieving.
- Playing
- Sonnet for Looking for China
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Sonnet for Looking for China
(Maine Arts Journal, Spring 2023)
-Susan Cook-
I am in my garden when I fall on
my knees because I remember I can't
find you now. Things that call or that beckon,
what walks toward me, has not been you. It can't
be. So, because I remember behind
everything, there is always something more,
I start to dig. People have tried to find
China this way. You found it, I bet, sure
now, of where it is that loss goes, the fall
it brings. I will find it too and when we're
there, together, we will celebrate small
truths. "Woman burrows to China." We'll cheer
human accomplishment, what cupped hands can
do, know what it is we didn't know then.
Three Poems for Hard Times
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 03:12
"When Loss and Innocence", "What Courage Wears to Bed", "The Meaning of Life". Poems from the author of "Breathing: American Sonnets"
- Playing
- Three Poems for Hard Times
- From
- Susan J. Cook
When Loss and Innocence
When loss and innocence are juxtaposed
fast, I mean, in a matter of seconds
on a crystal clear day, when no one knows,
how could they? Here's death: whimpering, loud, reckoned
again with our presumptuous faith in
ourselves, the surefootedness of each day.
Just then, the fear's deception, a faint sin
and all the pastors beckoning, "Come this way",
priests, Buddhist monks clearing out bad karma's
failed sensibility, the dory oars
missing, the rower not home yet. Harm, a
disinfectant sifts through open doors.
We are watching the edge of the world, held
by a vision, the persistence of breath.
What Courage Wears to Bed
This is what courage wears to bed. In the
winter, her robe is thicker than what's worn
in spring, the tighter collar, anathema
to my idea that resilience (I've sworn
her to it many times) can stand the change
in temperature, from cold to steaming hot.
She takes her suffering on the chin. What's strange
won't touch my girl at all. She revels not
in what's predictable. She won't confess
more than she has to, takes her chance, see,
just like me. I'll find her size. Slip her dress
on, buy her boots, circumstantially.
I want to be much more like her, the dress
she wears in fragile moods, her sulkiness.
The Meaning of Life
"How we spend our days is, of course how we spend our lives."
- Annie Dillard-
In the moment, where we are, it all seems
smaller, softer, far from what it should be.
But that's how life is, the way it flows, teems
inside the jar of us, the mortal sea
of who we are. No, it is not that we're
so different all the time. All we are
is there and who and what is living here
not so different, from before, not so far
away. Ah, but it's believing it that
comes hardest. No one is entirely
content that all they have to do is catch
their breath, take the next step, at times tired, free.
What is loud and vibrant, what is vivid
easy, life's meaning a gift we give it.
An American Sonnet for The Woman Who Is a Journalist
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:17
During National Poetry Month, an American Sonnet to bring us to know better the women journalists of Ukraine.
-Susan Cook-
A Sonnet for the Quantum Mechanics of Poetry
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:03
Poetry best helps us grasp the Quantum Mechanics topic of the latest Nobel Prize in Physics.
Tell Me How Many Black Seabirds
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:02
In these times, a poem for the places we find resilience.
- Playing
- Tell Me How Many Black Seabirds
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Tell Me How Many Black Seabirds
-Susan Cook-
Tell me how many black seabirds
woke up this morning, flew to a high place,
shook off a thousand drops of river, heard
each one, in slow motion, fall, a trace
of where each one began inside. This is
a daily ritual. They celebrate
with such silence, quiet applause, which is
to say, this abundance will tell a (late
sometimes) lie. The absence of chaos, just
drops of water shaken off, lets the heat
from the sun's dependable rays, we trust,
bring heart to any body's weary beat.
Tell me how we remind ourselves to turn
to the deliberate, needing it just now.
The Falcon Teaches World Democracies about Intervening in Ukraine: An American Sonnet
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:15
The falcon, not the eagle, is a model for how Democracies Should Intervene in Ukraine. "An American Sonnet for the Falcon."
The Falcon Teaches World Democracies About Intervening in Ukraine
A Sonnet for the Falcon
-Susan Cook-
Tonight, the falcon hears the falconer.
She has no intention of leaving him,
talons resting gently, gloved finger, her
ancient reassurance of this system,
knowing she'll go places he can't find.
She does then, sees him peering skyward,
wondering if she's gone for good, his mind
caught too. Absence pierces silence, is heard
even when it's very brief. Birds of prey
prepare us for predictions we can't make:
the clock that stops when someone stays away,
the meal the falcon can't return to take.
Tonight, falcon and falconer rehearse,
those lost, now found, dream of the universe.
Doing Good for Evil: An American Sonnet
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:07
My father often said his mother always told him, "Do good for evil." It's drawn from the Bible "This is your calling, your business in life- to do good and to do good for evil." I Peter 3:9
- Playing
- Doing Good for Evil: An American Sonnet
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Do Good for Evil:
An American Sonnet
-For Gary Lawless-
-Susan Cook-
First, you take your place in the lineage
of humanity, right there. You are one
of many. Again, we see sin's triage
unfold. All and everything is undone.
You (and many others, after all) watched, stilled
by the sight and sound of desperation.
Where does the seam of evil come loose, filled
too tight, inconspicuous, impatient.
There is nothing left for us to do but
give what no one has asked of us, to tame
harm before its time, the knife lifted, cut
smaller and smaller, no evil star flamed.
Do good for evil. Do good for evil.
When we are left motionless, leave good will.
Remembering We Have Already Said Farewell: "Epilogue: To a Fire Gone" from "Breathing: American Sonnets" (Shermans.com)
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:42
An American Sonnet about the difficulty of endings and farewell.
From "Breathing: American Sonnets"
by Susan Cook
(available from Bookshop.org)
Epilogue
To a Fire Gone
After "Reluctance: by Robert Frost
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
When was it less than treason? But what do
you mean, Mr. Frost? That’s for countries to
feel short-changed by. Loss happens to those who
see the passing on of days, years, one blue
time in life, one breaking, undoing a
treacherous rope they have been tied onto,
its deep burn. In the coldest time of day
or night, fires started that you thought grew
larger instead were, licked back into their
own intensity, remained confined on
one small patch of earth. You did not see where
the fire, some time later, died. You were gone.
Big difference, see, between countries resigned
to losing, small unfed fires, gone in time.
Remembering We Have Already Said Farewell: "Epilogue: To a Fire Gone" from "Breathing: American Sonnets" (Shermans.com)
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:42
An American Sonnet about the difficulty of endings and farewell.
From "Breathing: American Sonnets"
by Susan Cook
(available from Bookshop.org)
Epilogue
To a Fire Gone
After "Reluctance: by Robert Frost
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
When was it less than treason? But what do
you mean, Mr. Frost? That’s for countries to
feel short-changed by. Loss happens to those who
see the passing on of days, years, one blue
time in life, one breaking, undoing a
treacherous rope they have been tied onto,
its deep burn. In the coldest time of day
or night, fires started that you thought grew
larger instead were, licked back into their
own intensity, remained confined on
one small patch of earth. You did not see where
the fire, some time later, died. You were gone.
Big difference, see, between countries resigned
to losing, small unfed fires, gone in time.
Remembering We Have Already Said Farewell: "Epilogue: To a Fire Gone" from "Breathing: American Sonnets" (Shermans.com)
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:42
An American Sonnet about the difficulty of endings and farewell.
From "Breathing: American Sonnets"
by Susan Cook
(available from Bookshop.org)
Epilogue
To a Fire Gone
After "Reluctance: by Robert Frost
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
When was it less than treason? But what do
you mean, Mr. Frost? That’s for countries to
feel short-changed by. Loss happens to those who
see the passing on of days, years, one blue
time in life, one breaking, undoing a
treacherous rope they have been tied onto,
its deep burn. In the coldest time of day
or night, fires started that you thought grew
larger instead were, licked back into their
own intensity, remained confined on
one small patch of earth. You did not see where
the fire, some time later, died. You were gone.
Big difference, see, between countries resigned
to losing, small unfed fires, gone in time.
Remembering We Have Already Said Farewell: "Epilogue: To a Fire Gone" from "Breathing: American Sonnets" (Shermans.com)
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:42
An American Sonnet about the difficulty of endings and farewell.
From "Breathing: American Sonnets"
by Susan Cook
(available from Bookshop.org)
Epilogue
To a Fire Gone
After "Reluctance: by Robert Frost
Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?
When was it less than treason? But what do
you mean, Mr. Frost? That’s for countries to
feel short-changed by. Loss happens to those who
see the passing on of days, years, one blue
time in life, one breaking, undoing a
treacherous rope they have been tied onto,
its deep burn. In the coldest time of day
or night, fires started that you thought grew
larger instead were, licked back into their
own intensity, remained confined on
one small patch of earth. You did not see where
the fire, some time later, died. You were gone.
Big difference, see, between countries resigned
to losing, small unfed fires, gone in time.
Sonnet for Justice
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:34
A sonnet about justice when it is buried and forgotten.
- Playing
- Sonnet for Justice
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Sonnet for Justice
Most of the world is doing stuff like that
most of the time. They are taking justice
out in the backyard in a body bag.
Most of them think, we’ll never know. Just this
should prove to us, clearly, reality
has its way, anyway. Our consciousness
knows the world can be a bad place without
actually seeing the men lift listless
bodies, you know, very carelessly, up.
The world cannot imagine justice placed
in some back yard like that, neglected, much
less the earth thrown over the shallow grave.
Consciousness can not protect her, listless,
in her shallow grave, breathless now justice.
-Susan Cook-
In "Breathing: American Sonnets"
The Discovery of Light: An American Sonnet
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :55
Thomas Edison and what his light did- understood through an American Sonnet.
- Playing
- The Discovery of Light: An American Sonnet
- From
- Susan J. Cook
The Discovery of Light: An American Sonnet
-Susan Cook-
Thomas Edison discovered cotton,
carbonized, sent out strands of silky light.
The non-believers drove for miles, not in
fascination, but in doubt that night sight
didn't require burning fire first,
a kindling so much harder to ignite,
the loss of life, from time to time, the curse
of other lamps, the tragedy of fire
placed too close, times when frightened horses kicked
the stable candle, burning hay that brought
entire towns to ash, the flames that licked
up everything, the cost of fire caught.
Some still don't trust a horse's fear, sudden
swaying, still not sure what this light has done.
The Distance of Time: An American Sonnet about Relativity
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :51
Poetry makes everything accessible, even the Special Theory of Relativity.
The Distance of Time
Relativity is everywhere in
daily life. Understanding doesn't mean
that first, there have to be twins, who begin
to move apart, one at home, one last seen
climbing on a space ship, each with a clock.
The years go by and when they meet (because
the speed of light is really slow, can stop
the years from showing up) there's a loss
of time, between them. One twin, traveling out
somewhere in space, can not remember when
they were last together, the day in doubt,
which year it was. While waiting for a friend,
Einstein, always late, knew, time's lost by hours.
Space brings us closer; time is never ours.
Sonnet for the Higgs Boson: A Poem Demystifing
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :49
In National Poetry Month, a poem to explain how the Higgs boson really works.
Sonnet for the Higgs boson
-Susan Cook-
You, Higgs boson, you come out of nowhere,
once you're blasted, hard enough, then, they say
indifference turns into desire, prepares
these subtle transformations, mystery's way,
bringing things together. Beauty, boson.
A boy beside me pulls me to my feet.
His truck is dark, darkness all in motion,
moving in the heat. Higgs, that was not heat
alone. Heat, remember, cools so quickly,
his, a perfect truck, catching you. You've known
that darkness deep inside a truck, thickly
threading all as one. I think Adam owned
a truck, magnetic wheels. The moving sent
him off. A truck, a truck, world without end.
How Einstein Understood E=mc Squared
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :55
Poetry Month and Einstein creating E=mc squared
- Playing
- How Einstein Understood E=mc Squared
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Sonnet for Why Einstein Understood E=mc2
I believe it was Einstein’s broken heart
that led him to understand E equals
mc squared. He knew when E fell apart
in his life. He knew how love goes. Sequels
that should have followed each other wouldn’t.
Just one listlessly paralyzed moment proved
it. Nothing gave him motion. He couldn’t
lift a finger, let alone an arm moved
by a body, within a body, held
by light they shared: she’d hold hers for him, he’d
hold his for her, then they’d fall. Oh, they fell
and fell. It broke his heart, the last of E.
Bereft and broke, idle in his time,
he knew his heart longed for some equal sign.
In the Department of Poetic Justice: Sonnet for the Primordial Gravity Waves
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:14
The 2017 Nobel Prize for Physics was awarded to those who offered proof of the existence of Primordial Gravity Waves. Einstein theorized they were there. Thus a Sonnet for the Primordial Gravity Waves, another way Einstein might have known.
-Susan Cook-
Just after the universe began, love
started too. There were no people yet. It
was so, so hot, far too hot, above
all else, for touching. No one was kissed
in that airless, stifling burn, New York flat,
the hottest night at the time. Desire though
had begun, primordial, yes, that
bearing, preoccupied, down. We now know
that was love. Things became much cooler and
the universe transparent, light perceived,
attraction thus visible, hand-in-hand,
no one there to give, to taste or receive.
Falling had been heard, though, long riffs of jazz,
the beat started, before the heart it has.
On the death of Stephen Hawking "Sonnet for The Black Hole" "Sonnet for A Loss"
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 02:03
Stephen Hawking has died who brought us all to imagine what black holes are and to recognize ourselves in them and him.
After Stephen Hawking and A Brief History of Time
-Susan Cook-
in a book. There are places far from earth
where once you're there, you will know it .
Leaving's struggle, to escape, just not worth
the time, the gravitational force on
the feet stronger, even though the mind may
say, "Time", time has become love's distraction
what once seemed stardust, that too swept away.
The only choice is stay: "passing that point
of no return, without noticing it",
collapsing, in tiny increments, joined
no longer. What will never again fit
is this: the logic of the light that drew
you, stars still sparkling far away and few.
Sonnet for A Loss
speaking, I mean, it has only happened
when I know you have died, I mean, I see
you not being where you were at the end,
you straddling that big stream that's rising up,
threatening to separate you from yourself,
you from your own, your reach not wide enough.
We're made of all those days we find that shelf
of river's edge, climb up, and get there, strive
for that (time, now and then, dipping into
that thirsty bowl of water called a life).
Your straddle grows still wider, merely you,
who one day is here, then one day it's you
who's moved away from you, away from you.
Sonnet for the US Ducks Independently Verified to Have been Neither Forcefed for Foie-Gras Production Nor Plucked of Their Feathers and Down During Their Lifetime
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:17
A United States outdoor clothing store sells coats, labelled to assure us that the down is from US Ducks Independently Verified to Have been Neither Forcefed for Foie-Gras Production Nor Plucked of Their Feathers and Down During Their Lifetime. Scott Pruitt who sued the Environmental Protection Agency over a dozen times has been installed as the agency's head. In reading the label on a down coat, I have found consolation, hope and small victory that our environmental sensibilities will survive, sentiments presented here in a sonnet, in the Department of Poetic Justice.
to Have been Neither Forcefed for Foie-Gras Production
Nor Plucked of Their Feathers and Down During Their Lifetime
-Susan Cook-
I want these ducks to know my faith in our
country has been re-nourished by this feat
when they grow the down , in their pro-life hour
in their solitary stance against the elite
practices that feed the rich while the ducks
live lives of strangulation, the minute’s
peace, lost, the moment when the neck curves, tucks
itself inside the plush gift. Diminish
the significance of the gift, the down’s weight,
the coat that will keep anyone warm, no
matter their social standing, EPA
head or not? Surely, they’re not our new foe.
Even ducks saved from force feeding won’t feed
you, Mr.Pruitt, your stick figure needs.
Sonnet for the US Ducks Independently Verified to Have been Neither Forcefed for Foie-Gras Production Nor Plucked of Their Feathers and Down During Their Lifetime
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:17
A United States outdoor clothing store sells coats, labelled to assure us that the down is from US Ducks Independently Verified to Have been Neither Forcefed for Foie-Gras Production Nor Plucked of Their Feathers and Down During Their Lifetime. Scott Pruitt who sued the Environmental Protection Agency over a dozen times has been installed as the agency's head. In reading the label on a down coat, I have found consolation, hope and small victory that our environmental sensibilities will survive, sentiments presented here in a sonnet, in the Department of Poetic Justice.
to Have been Neither Forcefed for Foie-Gras Production
Nor Plucked of Their Feathers and Down During Their Lifetime
-Susan Cook-
I want these ducks to know my faith in our
country has been re-nourished by this feat
when they grow the down , in their pro-life hour
in their solitary stance against the elite
practices that feed the rich while the ducks
live lives of strangulation, the minute’s
peace, lost, the moment when the neck curves, tucks
itself inside the plush gift. Diminish
the significance of the gift, the down’s weight,
the coat that will keep anyone warm, no
matter their social standing, EPA
head or not? Surely, they’re not our new foe.
Even ducks saved from force feeding won’t feed
you, Mr.Pruitt, your stick figure needs.
Small: An American Sonnet
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :57
In the large, large universe, the mind's eye still sees what it will.
- Playing
- Small: An American Sonnet
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Small
It doesn't matter how diminished we
feel, situated deep deep within the
large, large universe, we now know, we see
more and more of, its every corner, the
source of a revelation, a surprise
appearance of something we did not know
was there but has been all along. The size
of anything is not important, no,
changes mostly depend on nothing more
than the sun's cast shadow, the patterns we are sure
to form, in our mind's eye, largeness ignored,
the smallest persistent, convinced we'll endure.
Small, large do not save us as the mind's eye
slowly watches, no urgent need to hide.
Remembering the Lost: "The Fall"
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:03
In Memoriam , "The Fall"
(submitted 9/16/2013 in "Blue: American Sonnets" to the Beatrice Hawley (now Alice James) Poetry Prize)
- Playing
- Remembering the Lost: "The Fall"
- From
- Susan J. Cook
(Submitted 9/16/2013 in "Blue: American Sonnets" to the Beatrice Hawley (now Alice James) Poetry Prize)
Sonnet for Antoinette
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:03
This is a sonnet written for Antoinette, the school receptionist at the school in Georgia where a man stood outside, then fired a high powered weapon, carrying with him hundreds of rounds of ammunition. Antoinette spoke to him and he, in time, put down his weapon and surrendered to police.
- Playing
- Sonnet for Antoinette
- From
- Susan J. Cook
America's Sonnet
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :57
We cherish this country and hope for compassion for all of us.
- Playing
- America's Sonnet
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Einstein's Sonnet: Love Is Relativity
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:23
On September 28, 1905 Einstein's paper on the special theory of relativity was published in Annalen der Physik. A Poetic version, "Einstein's Sonnet" offered in anticipation of Valentine's Day.
- Playing
- Einstein's Sonnet: Love Is Relativity
- From
- Susan J. Cook
On September 28, 1905
Einstein published his paper on the special theory of relativity
In Annalen der Physik
-Susan Cook-
Do not tell me that in time all things pass.
my love, Einstein mused, makes but a minute.
Ode to Mr. Roubini's West Grand Lake Bass Update
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 03:18
In Maine, Bass fishing on West Grand Lake is a destination respite for many, including Mr. Nouriel Roubini, the legendary economist who was almost single-handed in anticipating the 2008 housing collapse and world-wide recession. This "Ode to Mr. Roubini's West Grand Lake Bass " is revisited in the wake of the recent change in , let's say, the landscape under the "River of Financial Abundance".
ODE TO MR. ROUBINI'S WEST GRAND LAKE BASS REVISITED
MR. ROUBINI, DO YOU THINK IT WAS THE WEST GRAND LAKE BASS
THAT HELPED YOUR BRAIN CELLS FORECAST THE 2008 CRASH?
LUCKY FOR YOU, SOME BASS STILL REMAINED
TELL US, WILL INTRODUCING ALEWIVES TO THE ST. CROIX RIVER DRIVE OUT THE BASS?
The 2022 Prologue,
Mr. Roubini, time to fire up the grill,
Your very best guide in this time of ticker tape upheaval
is not Bloomberg News or today's Wall Street Journal.
To keep your title as Dr. West Grand Lake Bass,
your Omega-3s jumping, still saving our last
nickels and dollars from going out with the tide,
go to www.grandlakestreamguides."
-SUSAN COOK-
To the First Images Seen of A Black Hole
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:03
Black holes still doing what they do. Re-visiting Einstein imagining his most important discovery.
- Playing
- To the First Images Seen of A Black Hole
- From
- Susan J. Cook
To the First Images Seen of A Black Hole
In Memoriam, a Sonnet Sequence for Edna St Vincent Millay
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 02:24
On her birthday, a Sonnet Sequence "The Rage of the World" .
The Rage of the World
In Memoriam: Ruth Bader Ginsburg "A Sonnet for the Waterfall"
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:15
Ruth Bader Ginsburg has died at age 87.
" When the spark had finally stopped,
ending finally, the luscious waterfall,
(the opulent deceit, the pleasure seems
so innocent, relentless, after all)
stopped."
In Memoriam: Ruth Bader Ginsburg
Sonnet for The Waterfall
Sonnet For The Baseball Teams Playing "Sweet Caroline"
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :54
This is a sonnet for the baseball teams who after the tragedy at the Boston Marathon each played the song the Boston Red Sox play during a game when they score a home run.
Journalist Suppression and Fear for Democracy- Sonnet for the Journalist Who Said 'Wink, Wink'
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :52
Sonnet for Wink, Wink
-Susan Cook-
There are places here on earth where a wink
at the wrong time means you will be walking
home one night, because your boss made you think
if you didn’t stay ‘til dark, you locked in,
almost, to your workplace, you’d lose your
job. He didn’t say, ‘Someone wants to harm
you . He didn’t say ‘ You think they’ll ignore
your wink.’ The winks what they want to disarm,
your long walk home, unaccompanied. Hour
by hour, totalitarian heads
of countries fear criticism’s power.
They’ll blind that wink, before anyone knows.
Winking is in the beholder’s eye, first,
oppression’s vengeance comes next, unrehearsed
Sonnet for Wink, Wink
at the wrong time means you will be walking
home one night, because your boss made you think
if you didn’t stay ‘til dark, you locked in,
almost, to your workplace, you’d lose your
job. He didn’t say, "Someone wants to harm
you ." He didn’t say. "You think they’ll ignore
your wink?" The winks what they want to disarm,
your long walk home, unaccompanied. Hour
by hour, totalitarian heads
of countries fear criticism’s power.
They’ll blind that wink, before anyone knows.
Winking is in the beholder’s eye, first,
oppression’s vengeance comes next, unrehearsed
Sonnet for What Will Be Well
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:01
Poems are solace in times of not knowing.
Today, a Sonnet for What Will Be Well.
"There are events that narrowly avoid
crossing our paths, every day but let you
be...You can thank your lucky stars.
- Playing
- Sonnet for What Will Be Well
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Sonnet for What Will Be Well -Susan Cook- There are events that narrowly avoid crossing our paths, every day but let you be. You can thank your lucky stars, small voids somewhere in space, crevices that kept you, danger’s possibilities still there. My mother used to say that, my father, too, their authority broader, because I began to believe that somehow they knew when I should or shouldn’t trust fate, rely on faith to know what will be well in life. ‘Shipwrecked. Lost everything. All is well,’ my Grandfather , last dime spent, wrote to his wife. ‘Thank your lucky stars,’ he might have murmured, to dark waters, the rescuers’ voice heard.
For Whom the Bell Tolls
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:07
Some years back The House of Representatives' healthcare bill denied maternity care and denied health insurance to 18 to 25 year olds. Back then, Maine's Representative Poliquin fled to the restroom when reporters asked about his vote to pass the bill. Only a sonnet conveys the stark neglect of others in his proposed bill.
- Playing
- For Whom the Bell Tolls
- From
- Susan J. Cook
-Susan Cook-
anymore. It tolls for whom white men want
it to. Those for whom we’ve wept - give me
your tired, your poor, your huddled mass, who want
to be free, remember- are left on bare
Mattresses. Newborns are a wealthy man’s tax
burden, babies denied health care, once they’re
born. Mr. Pro-Life’s knife, stabs at their backs
and ex- Representative Poliquin
hides in the men’s room. The truth has a fist,
that now endures and cannot be hidden.
In his healthcare vote, newborns don’t exist.
The bell tolls now for white men, who squander
this country of hope, the lost who’ve wandered.
A Poem to the President of the NRA
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:09
This poem to one President of the NRA has no statistics, no logic, no legal reasoning or principle. Only profound grief and sadness..
- Playing
- A Poem to the President of the NRA
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Sonnet for Donald Hall (after reading his essay on growing old)
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:07
Donald Hall died on June 23rd. A sonnet written after reading his essay on growing old.
(After Reading His Essay on Growing Old)
-Susan Cook-
barns, for generations, have been lost
when one last winter snow storm tears the past
apart, barns like time, there until they're not.
And Donald Hall, I'm coming by to cook
for you, who've lived the inexplicable:
that foods are truly love, the loves that look
you in the eye, the meal that leaves you full.
And Donald Hall, your tree sees where you sit
and all who've watched before sitting by your
side. Bending back in time, were you a finch?
The tree a boy? We'll never now for sure
if trees were boys or men were birds. We knew
only this man. That's you, now. See? That's you.
A Sonnet for Negative Ads
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :57
Sometimes, there is an ineffable quality to the offensiveness of negative campaign ads. We turn here to the sonnet to express deep concern about negative political ads. Thus, for this 2014 Election Campaign season, "A Sonnet for Negative Ads".
- Playing
- A Sonnet for Negative Ads
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Sonnet for President Obama's Tear
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | 01:11
First published on the eve of Martin Luther King Day , we turn to our preferred form of political expression, the sonnet, to acknowledge the compassion President Obama has brought to the Presidency. Today, we offer a "Sonnet for President Obama's Tear''.
- Playing
- Sonnet for President Obama's Tear
- From
- Susan J. Cook
Sonnet for President Obama’s Tear His tear is for every person lost since illegal guns became more, much, so much more available. How do you convince the NRA these dead are theirs too? Touch the darkness of those who will not ever know who their guns took, experience wretched calculations of forever’s duration, time with no end, grief re-sensed. They calculate abstractly the time passed for those whose children died, who are not here. We only know one madman’s moment lasts lifetimes when we can’t bear Obama’s tear. Obama’s tear tells what must be retold. Compassion’s time is for whom the bell tolls.
Susan Cook
Sonnet for the First Fish, Best Fish
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :51
Sonnets are a way to find optimism in difficult times. This is a sonnet that acknowledges that the first fish is the best fish and can provide for many.
- Playing
- Sonnet for the First Fish, Best Fish
- From
- Susan J. Cook
-Susan Cook-
Sonnet for Gorbachev
From Susan J. Cook | Part of the The River Is Wide series | :57
The vision of Gorbachev now is destroyed by Vladimir Putin. A sonnet will remind us of what Gorbachev made possible and what is now lost by Putin's polarization.
- Playing
- Sonnet for Gorbachev
- From
- Susan J. Cook
