Malcolm Miller Poems: Difference between revisions

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Malcolm Miller’s Salem Poems –an incomplete compilation  [13 February 2016]
Malcolm Miller’s Salem Poems –an incomplete compilation  [13 February 2016]


'''Standing on the Salem-Beverly bridge gazing seawards
'''Standing on the Salem-Beverly bridge gazing seawards at four in the morning March 1990'''
                at four in the morning March 1990'''


to the right the final  
to the right the final  

Revision as of 11:07, 5 March 2020

Malcolm Miller was a Salem poet. His main entry is Miller, Malcolm H.

Thanks to Rod Kessler, English professor Emeritus from Salem State we have some of his

Salem-Centric poems listed below.

Malcolm Miller’s Salem Poems –an incomplete compilation [13 February 2016]

Standing on the Salem-Beverly bridge gazing seawards at four in the morning March 1990

to the right the final part of Salem shines with spaced lights curving towards the end of our power

to the left Beverly like a finger lit by many gold rings points towards some union

out beyond our marriages out where only dark bigger than all our lights seem to call

I am going I am going will I see will I see you there? [INTO THE HIGHER AIR, 1992, 72 pages, p.8]


Witch Trials Salem Mass. 1692

the trees were stark to begin with and the choppy sea often grey and cold

Indians had strange ways and eyes their arrows could travel a long way and accurately

far off the English king could not be relied on rumors spoke of changes not to their advantage

order is always maintained by a form of no the haunches of women even young shake fire in the thatched-roof cabins

fire is a dangerous element and a moral god insufficient there are always reasons to kill many wished for more than twenty [INTO THE HIGHER AIR, 1992, 72 pages, p.33]

A clean Well Lighted Place In Winter

it’s 3 in the morning the fatal lapsed hour I am the sole customer here in this Dunkin Donut on the coast of Massachusetts

the coffee is all right the donut not bad the music being offered only fair and behind the counter the young woman who quit high school out of boredom is yawning

a mute kind of weary-eyed goddess

but a goddess none the less in this god blessedly open place or don’t you know don’t you know yet about closed up towns in cold dark times

                                         [FURTHER AND FURTHER   POEMS (1992), 72 pages, p.65] 


ZONE 3

I used to buy a ticket from Boston that said to Salem Mass now it says to Zone 3

I used to have moments of joy now I have

no problems

I used to be free and easy now I am acceptable and do the right thing for the situation

I used to be loyal to something I could not define now I am a good citizen

      [FURTHER AND FURTHER   POEMS (1992), 72 pages, p.16] 

State College Canteen

on his last day of work the guy by some quirk of inspiration profit or satire loaded the huge soft drink machines with beer the price was right and the day spring-like never have students learned more about religion Dionysius was dancing in the halls and singing in the corridors

never did the philosophy professor a master of logical positivism seem more absurd his much praised sobriety was found to be a sort of living death and all the English instructors by afternoon were being booed from the building for not knowing how to teach young people how to return to the sun [POEMS THAT NEED YOU (1993) p.41]


there is a sign in a bar in my home town that is like modern life do not hesitate to ask for credit it says our way of saying no is very polite

       	[Unsatisfactory Fragments of Lukewarm Fire, (Jan. 2004) p. 57]  

College Girl in Massachusetts

in the winter dawn a girl bound for history class sure footed and neat with the grace of morning her face almost fresh as recent snow the night’s full twinkling moon over Salem harbor

college girl bearing your proud unchallenged face towards the necessary war of all the living I go with you I go with you clear-eyed sprite your earnest brow of morning

even over here I feel your unique breathing the privateness of your being descended from trees and birds and from darkness kind to all its stars

I go with you lovely scholar and may you find on your way however buried the gold of unteachable joy

[The Taste of Inexplicable Nothingness, 1994]