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Powerful and inspiring poetry 

Ganesh Trichur

 

 > From: mikedjya...@msn.com
> Date: Wed, 10 Aug 2011 10:36:08 -0700
> Subject: [Marxism] they feed they lion/poem by phillip levine
> To: tkgan...@hotmail.com
> 
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> I heard him read this poem. A great poem.  Out of burlap sacks, out of 
> bearing butter,
> Out of black bean and wet slate bread,
> Out of the acids of rage, the candor of tar,
> Out of creosote, gasoline, drive shafts, wooden dollies,
> They Lion grow.
> 
> Out of the gray hills
> Of industrial barns, out of rain, out of bus ride,
> West Virginia to Kiss My Ass, out of buried aunties,
> Mothers hardening like pounded stumps, out of stumps,
> Out of the bones' need to sharpen and the muscles' to stretch,
> They Lion grow.
> 
> Earth is eating trees, fence posts,
> Gutted cars, earth is calling in her little ones,
> "Come home, Come home!" From pig balls,
> From the ferocity of pig driven to holiness,
> From the furred ear and the full jowl come
> The repose of the hung belly, from the purpose
> They Lion grow.
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> From the sweet glues of the trotters
> Come the sweet kinks of the fist, from the full flower
> Of the hams the thorax of caves,
> From "Bow Down" come "Rise Up,"
> Come they Lion from the reeds of shovels,
> The grained arm that pulls the hands,
> They Lion grow.
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> From my five arms and all my hands,
> From all my white sins forgiven, they feed,
> From my car passing under the stars,
> They Lion, from my children inherit,
> From the oak turned to a wall, they Lion,
> From they sack and they belly opened
> And all that was hidden burning on the oil-stained earth
> They feed they Lion and he comes.
> 
>                                         
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