Quiet sad loud short poems (poemas tranquilos, bruyants, tristes, cortos)

I have been waiting to stumble upon a new form, or forms, for my poems, something more suited to our twenty-first century crises and (minimal) reading habits. The present short poem—English followed by une version en français y una versión en español— has seemed to be heading in a fruitful direction.

Somewhat similarly, I have an interest in very simple drawings and paintings. Thus the two images offered here. And it is always a pleasure to be able to cite others’ texts that I have enjoyed or that have contributed to my evolution. Thus the Robert Creeley & Paul Éluard poems copied below my English text.

What about the bicycle?

Simple face, man's (it would seem) - William Eaton, 2023

It would seem that of late we have a habit

Of inventing things that, within a few decades

Or less, prove less wonderful

Than at first blush.

Plastics are what got me started here,

And there are automobiles, nuclear weapons, cellphones;

Though, of course, there will be someone to say:

What about the bicycle?

Antibiotics, some forms of democracy

Which we seem to be losing track of.

Creeley & Éluard poems

Robert Creeley: The Dishonest Mailmen

They are taking all my letters, and they
put them into a fire.

I see the flames, etc.
But do not care, etc.

They burn everything I have, or what little
I have. I don’t care, etc.

The poem supreme, addressed to
emptiness—this is the courage

necessary. This is something
quite different.

N.B.: One can find this poem in varying formats; for example, without being divided into two-line stanzas, or with the “I see the flames, etc.” indented.

Paul Éluard : Les petites justes, VIII
De « Capitale de la douleur », 1926

Elle se refuse toujours à comprendre, à entendre

Elle rit pour cacher sa terreur d’elle-même.

Elle a toujours marché sous les arches des nuits

Et partout où elle a passé

Elle a laissé

L’empreinte des choses brisées.

N.B.: One might see further le triangle de son nez (the wedge of her nose).

Français

Et la bicyclette, le vélo ?

Il semble que nous ayons pris l’habitude

D’inventer des choses qui, quelques décennies plus tard

Ou moins, se révèlent moins merveilleuses

Qu’elles ne le semblaient à première vue.

C’est le plastique qui m’a lancé cette fois-ci,

Et il y a aussi les automobiles, les armes nucléaires, les téléphones portables ;

Quoique, bien sûr, il y aura quelqu’un pour dire :

« Et la bicyclette, le vélo ? »

Les antibiotiques, certaines formes de démocratie

Dont nous semblons perdre la trace.

Español

¿Y la bicicleta?

Parece que últimamente tenemos la costumbre

de inventar cosas que, en unas pocas décadas

o menos, resultan menos maravillosas
de lo que parecía a primera vista.

Fue el plástico lo que me hizo empezar esta vez,

y hay automóviles, armas nucleares, teléfonos móviles;

aunque, por supuesto, alguien dirá:

¿Y la bicicleta?

Los antibióticos, algunas formas de democracia

a las que parece que le estamos perdiendo la pista.


— Poem(s) and paintings by William Eaton.

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