what I read this morning

February 6, 2020February 6, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:

to loose the chains of injustice

 and untie the cords of the yoke,

to set the oppressed free

 and break every yoke?

Is it not to share your food with the hungry

 and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—

when you see the naked, to clothe them,

 and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

Then your light will break forth like the dawn,

 and your healing will quickly appear;

then your righteousness will go before you,

 and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.

Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;

 you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.

“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,

with the pointing finger and malicious talk,

and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.

Isaiah 58:6-10

Holy Moley!!!

February 5, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

The response to the first issue of Hole In The Head Review has been positive!

Holy Moley! I’d call this an auspicious debut, but that would be one very weak adjective. I’m usually very reluctant to contribute to Inaugural Issues. Now, I’m sorry I missed the boat.

It’s easy to create a website; blog a bit when one has time. Takes a lot more vision and ambition to launch a literary/art review that has inspiring poetry by noted poets, compelling art and a muscular intelligence. I highly recommend Hole in the Head Review. Take some real time, nourish your mind, eyes and heart… and enjoy!

Sometimes we need more professional sports like we need a hole in the head ! Thanks Hole In the Head Review. (written during the Super Bowl)

I really enjoyed seeing the first issue! Congratulations!!

Very excited to have my poem appear in Hole In the Head Review’s first issue alongside some very great poets and artists.

To my pages-and-words mates, I am so proud to be among you, and to rediscover, especially right now, the joy & comfort that craft and companionship have to offer. And so we persist.

Congratulations! This new litmag IS what we need right now. Cheers to Hole In The Head!

…graphically beautiful and full of engaging work!

It is truly, truly beautiful. The music of the many poems, the different tones, points of view, levels of emotions, differences in location and voices—cannot believe you made this art so quickly and elegantly.

Please take a minute to tell us what you think. We’d love to hear from you. http://www.holeintheheadreview.com

Rilke, from Stundenbuch (translated by Robert Bly)

February 5, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

In this town the last house stands
as lonely as if it were the last house in the world

The highway, which the tiny town is not able to stop,
slowly goes deeper out into the night.

The tiny town is only a passing-over place,
worried and afraid, between two huge spaces –
a path running past houses instead of a bridge.

And those who leave the town wander a long way off
and many perhaps die on the road.

tomorrow 02.02.20

February 1, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

Winter Trees – William Carlos Williams

February 1, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.

for those who mourn

January 26, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

Perfection Wasted – John Updike

And another regrettable thing about death
is the ceasing of your own brand of magic,
which took a whole life to develop and market—
the quips, the witticisms, the slant
adjusted to a few, those loved ones nearest
the lip of the stage, their soft faces blanched
in the footlight glow, their laughter close to tears,
their tears confused with their diamond earrings,
their warm pooled breath in and out with your heartbeat,
their response and your performance twinned.
The jokes over the phone. The memories packed
in the rapid-access file. The whole act.
Who will do it again? That’s it: no one;
imitators and descendants aren’t the same.

Let Evening Come – Jane Kenyon

January 25, 2020January 25, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.

Francesca – Ezra Pound

January 25, 2020 / Bill Schulz / Leave a comment

You came in out of the night
And there were flowers in your hands,
Now you will come out of a confusion of people,
Out of a turmoil of speech about you.

I who have seen you amid the primal things
Was angry when they spoke your name
In ordinary places.
I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind,
And that the world should dry as a dead leaf,
Or as a dandelion seed-pod and be swept away,
So that I might find you again,
Alone.