THE BEAUTIFUL NATURE OF POETRY NOW

Diane Ackerman is our favorite contemporary poet who muses and reflects on the beauty of nature and science. Enjoy a sampling of her magnificent poems below.

JAGUAR OF SWEET LAUGHTER

We would lie on coral sand, below sugary stars,

watching Cassiopeia mount her throne

and the Great Bear wash its paws in the South.

I would say, "I have a secret to tell you."

And, folding me in your arms, boyish and sly,

you would answer: "Whisper it into my mouth.”

― Diane Ackerman, Jaguar of Sweet Laughter: New and Selected Poems

I PRAISE MY DESTROYER

How can it all end,

the moon making foil of the blueblack sea,

at twilight the sandbars holding lavender

among turquoise shadows,

pastels of water lidded by pastels of sky

and, at angle, moon shimmer snaking to the horizon?

By the dockside, a diver kneels at his tank,

to test the regulator, as if taking communion.

 

***

 

How can it all end,

the cabbage whites aflutter

like tissue-papers

lofting to Heaven in a Japanese temple,

the yellow roses numbingly fragrant

and even the spiky conifer

whispering scent.

 

I praise my destroyer.

The sea turtle's revenge

is to dwell at equal measures

from the grave. Our cavernous brains

won't save us in the end,

though, heaven knows, then enhance the drama.

Despite passion's rule, deep play

and wonder, worry hangs

like a curtain of trembling beads

across every doorway.

 

But there was never a dull torment,

and it was grace to live

among the fruits of summer, to love by design,

and walk the startling Earth

for what seemed

an endless resurrection of days.

 

I praise life's bright catastrophes,

and all the ceremonies of grief.

I praise our real estate - a shadow and a grave.

I praise my destroyer,

and will continue praising

until hours run like mercury

through my fingers, hope flares a final time

into the last throes of innocence,

and all the coins of sense are spent.

 

BEIJA-FLOR (HUMMINGBIRD)

When you kiss me, moths flutter in my mouth;

when you kiss me, leaf-cutter ants lift up

their small burden and carry them along

corridors of scent;

 

when you kiss me,

caymans slither down wet banks in moonlight,

jaws yawning open, eyes bright red lasers;

when you kiss me, my tiny fist conceals

the bleached skull of a sloth; when you kiss me,

the waters wed in my ribs, dark and pale

rivers exchange their potions--she gives him

love's power, he gives her love's lure;

when you kiss me, my heart, surfacing, steals

a small breath like a pink river dolphin;

 

when you kiss me, the rain falls thick as rubber,

sunset pours red caramel down my spine

and, in my hips, the green wings of the jungle flutter;

 

when you kiss me, blooms explode like land mines

in trees loud with monkey-muttering

and the kazoo-istry of birds;

 

when you kiss me,

a palm cradling the moon in its arm becomes

a pictograph for leisure; when you kiss me

my flesh sambas like an iguana;

 

when you kiss me,

the river-mirror reflects an unknown land,

eyes glitter in the foliage, ships pass

like traveling miracle plays, and coca sets

bush fires in my veins; when you kiss me,

the river tilts its wet thighs around a bend;

 

when you kiss me, my tongue unfolds its wings

and flies through shadows as a leaf-nosed bat,

a ventriloquist of the twilight shore

which hurls its voice against the tender world

 

THE SAVANT OF SUNFLOWERS,

THE APPRENTICE OF ROSES

 

Something in a rose

knows to spread its roots

into a stable base,

how to shimmy up a trellis,

graft onto reliable stock,

open up rich with scent,

and slowly unfold another

flush of tawny bloom.

 

While you’re away,

I miss the parts of me

that regrow with you:

the mischief elf, the sensual self,

the sonneteering ghost

who rides the flanks of night,

breathing time, sweating stars,

while memories swim

like constellations overhead.

 

I miss the serpentine Eve

who rarely dozes, the attaché

that sometimes imposes,

all the sprites who sprint

through the high supposes,

the patient saint who aspires

to a heaven which encloses,

and, especially, the touched one

committed to the asylum

and penitentiary of roses.

 

–– Diane Ackerman

Read more of Diane Ackerman’s gorgeous nature and science themed poems in these books: [Origami Bridges: Poems of Psychoanalysis and Fire](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0060199881/ref=aslitl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0060199881&linkCode=as2&tag=beauti064-20&linkId=W5SVLHN5RPSLDCEM) , I Praise My Destroyer: Poems , Reverse Thunder: A Dramatic Poem , Lady Faustus , [The Planets: A Cosmic Pastoral [Poems]](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/068808088X/ref=aslitl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=068808088X&linkCode=as2&tag=beauti064-20&linkId=COIWIK2NE5GPRLIE) , The Human Age: The World Shaped By Us  and Wife of light.

You can also hear her speak and read at the Nantucket Book Festival, this coming June (2016).

Read more about Beautiful Poetry in 10 Most Beautiful New Poetry Books Now.

And check out more beautiful things happening now in BN Arts/Design, Nature/Science, Food/Drink, Place/Time, Mind/Body, and Soul/Impact Daily Fix posts.

IMAGE CREDITS:

1. Image: by Kris Williams. Moonlit Shores - Black Point, Anglesey.
2. Image: Courtesy of Hubble Heritage. Kepler's Supernova Remnant SN 1604.
3. Image: by Paul Stein. Cabbage White Butterfly, Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, Brooklyn New York.
4. Image: by Jim Culp. Rufous Hummingbird.
5. Image: by Dana. Roses.
6. Image: byMichael Weschler. Courtesy of Nantucket Book Festival. Diane Ackerman.
7. Image: by Darkangels. Sunflower.
8. Image: by Lars Steffens. Sunset, Aachen, Germany.
9. Image: by BN App - Download now!
10. Image: by Chuck. California Route