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Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

The introductory poems to the first and second halves of Susan Stewart's 1995 book "The Forest" #poetry #poetrysky

Untitled poem number one, by Susan Stewart, from her book "The Forest"

"What haunts are not the dead
but the gaps left within us
by the secrets of others."
So says the book
ofthe phantom where I read
the fable ofthe mother's arms,
the look behind a fret of limbs,
how dread and hope are wound.
The voice fell back and back
and down, back to its source
beneath the ground.
Tell me, lonely singer, then
why the phantom fades again
there on the threshold
of our seeing.

Untitled poem number two, by Susan Stewart, from her book "The Forest"

We needed fire to make
the tongs and tongs to hold
us from the flame; we needed
ash to clean the cloth
and cloth to clean the ash's
stain; we needed stars
to find our way, to make
the light that blurred the stars;
we needed death to mark
an end, an end that time
in time could mend.
Born in love, the consequence—
born of love, the need.
Tell me, ravaged singer,
how the cinder bears the seed.

November 18, 2025 at 9:15 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

The incredible poem "Refugees" by Brian Bilston brianbilston.com/2016/03/23/r...
#poetry #refugees #poetrysky

Title: "Refugees" by Brian Bilston

They have no need of our help
So do not tell me
These haggard faces could belong to you or me
Should life have dealt a different hand
We need to see them for who they really are
Chancers and scroungers
Layabouts and loungers
With bombs up their sleeves
Cut-throats and thieves
They are not
Welcome here
We should make them
Go back to where they came from
They cannot
Share our food
Share our homes
Share our countries
Instead let us
Build a wall to keep them out
It is not okay to say
These are people just like us
A place should only belong to those who are born there
Do not be so stupid to think that
The world can be looked at another way

(now read from bottom to top)

The world can be looked at another way
Do not be so stupid to think that
A place should only belong to those who are born there
These are people just like us
It is not okay to say
Build a wall to keep them out
Instead let us
Share our countries
Share our homes
Share our food
They cannot
Go back to where they came from
We should make them
Welcome here
They are not
Cut-throats and thieves
With bombs up their sleeves
Layabouts and loungers
Chancers and scroungers
We need to see them for who they really are
Should life have dealt a different hand
These haggard faces could belong to you or me
So do not tell me
They have no need of our help

November 14, 2025 at 2:51 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

"Telemachus", by Ocean Vuong, from his book "Night Sky With Exit Wounds" (2016) #poetry #poetrysky #favoritepoems

Title: "Telemachus", poem by Ocean Vuong

Like any good son, I pull my father out
of the water, drag him by his hair

through white sand, his knuckles carving a trail
the waves rush in to erase. Because the city

beyond the shore is no longer
where we left it. Because the bombed

cathedral is now a cathedral
of trees. I kneel beside him to show how far

I might sink. Do you know who I am,
Ba? But the answer never comes. The answer

is the bullet hole in his back, brimming
with seawater. He is so still I think

he could be anyone’s father, found
the way a green bottle might appear

at a boy’s feet containing a year
he has never touched. I touch

his ears. No use. I turn him
over. To face it. The cathedral

in his sea-black eyes. The face
not mine — but one I will wear

to kiss all my lovers good-night:
the way I seal my father’s lips

with my own & begin
the faithful work of drowning.

November 10, 2025 at 10:09 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

The Fall 2025 Issue of Plainsongs is now available for purchase, in both PDF and Print copies! It features my poem "Night Weeding" www.corpuscallosumpress.com/shop

#poetry #poetrysky

November 9, 2025 at 12:07 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

"Feathers or Lead" by Jack Gilbert, from his book 'Refusing Heaven' (2005) #poetry #poetrysky #favoritepoems

"Feathers or Lead", poem by Jack Gilbert

Him, she said, and him. They put us in the second car
and followed her back to the villa. Our fear slowly
faded during the weeks. Everyone was kind but busy.
We could go anywhere on the first floor
and on the grounds this side of the fence.
They decided on me and sent the other boy away.
Before I had only glimpsed her at the upper windows.
Now we ate together at opposite ends of the table.
Candlelight eased her age, but not her guilt.
Once she said the world was an astonishing animal:
light was its spirit and noise was its mind.
That it was composed to feed on honor, but did not.
Another time she warned me about walking on the lawns
at night. Told me of heavy birds that flew after dark
croaking, "Feathers or lead, stone or fire?"
Mounting people who gave the wrong answer and riding
them like horses across the whole county, beating them
with their powerful wings. We would play cards
silently on rainy days, and have sardine sandwiches
at four in the morning, taking turns reading aloud
from Tolstoy. "What need do we have for consulates?"
she said once before going upstairs, the grand room
beginning to fill with the dawn. "Why insist
on nature? A flower must be red or white, but we
can be anything. Our victories are difficult
because the triumph is not in possessing excellence.
It is found in reluctance." Month after month
we lived like that. And with me telling her
what it was like out there among the living.
She was steadily failing, like a Palladian palace
coming apart gracefully. The last morning she stooр
by the tall windows. "I will not give you my blessing,"
she said, "and I refuse you also my reasons. Who are you,
who is anyone to make me just?" When they came for her,
she smiled at me and said, "At last."

November 4, 2025 at 11:02 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

Not only is the No Kings parade not presenting any demands for material change, they're explicitly against civil disobedience? Taken from their official website ↓

October 19, 2025 at 2:31 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

I also want to share an older poem of mine, one I'm still proud of. "Tall as a Cypress", published by Impossible Archetype in Aug. '24. You can read it here (pdf page 47): impossiblearchetype.wordpress.com/wp-content/u...

#poetry #poetrysky #poetrycommunity

October 16, 2025 at 12:46 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

I was hoping for some leftist Kamala Harris opinions to retweet but this whole site is liberal hell and all your Kamala-touting literally makes me want to throw up, so I'll just repost from twitter. These say it better than I could anyhow.

October 13, 2025 at 4:17 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

Left: Scene from "Cunk on Life".
Right: American release cover art for The Strokes album "Is This It", showing subatomic particle tracks in a bubble chamber.

September 9, 2025 at 4:11 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

"Starving Month", published by Sierra Nevada Review.
www.sierranevadareview.com/sean-eaton-2...
#poetry #poetrysky #poetrycommunity #poem

September 1, 2025 at 11:04 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

#Gaza #Palestine #AlJazeera

July 19, 2025 at 7:43 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

And this is why I'm not deleting Twitter #Gaza

Bluesky user @mommunism says "Another Gazan talking about her experience here" while quote-retweeting a Palestinian account that has been deleted by Bluesky, one of many.

Twitter user Tiberius @ecomarxi quote-retweets saying "Bluesky is deleting Palestinian accounts over and over and over again"

Twitter user Heidi N. Moore @moorehn quote-retweets that saying "I've said it before, I'll say it again: Bluesky is the liberal Zone of Interest"

May 26, 2025 at 10:35 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

A Two-State Solution is not possible with these people.

May 24, 2025 at 12:28 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

Israel is an irredeemably genocidal country committing a modern-day Manifest Destiny against Palestinian natives, and anyone who supports Israel's continued existence is guilty of Manifest Destiny themselves. For 77 years Israel has refused to play nice, it deserves to be dismantled.

May 24, 2025 at 12:26 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

Horrifying: A new poll of Israeli Jews conducted by Israeli polling firm Geocartography reveals overwhelming (82%) support for ethnic cleansing of Gazans, & solid-majority (56%) support for ethnic cleansing of Israeli Arabs. Nearly half (47%) support killing all Gazans in cities captured by IDF.

May 24, 2025 at 11:30 AM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

"What Were They Like?" by Denise Levertov, 1967. Protesting the Vietnam War, which had 2 million civilian casualties, this poem imagines a worst-case scenario wherein no Vietnamese person is left alive, an entire culture eradicated through carpet-bombing. #Gaza #Genocide #poetry #poetrysky

"What Were They Like?"
poem by Denise Levertov protesting the Vietnam War, written 1967.

Did the people of Viet Nam
use lanterns of stone?
Did they hold ceremonies
to reverence the opening of buds?
Were they inclined to quiet laughter?
Did they use bone and ivory,
jade and silver, for ornament?
Had they an epic poem?
Did they distinguish between speech and singing?

Sir, their light hearts turned to stone.
It is not remembered whether in gardens
stone lanterns illumined pleasant ways.
Perhaps they gathered once to delight in blossom,
but after their children were killed
there were no more buds.
Sir, laughter is bitter to the burned mouth.
A dream ago, perhaps. Ornament is for joy.
All the bones were charred.
it is not remembered. Remember,
most were peasants; their life
was in rice and bamboo.
When peaceful clouds were reflected in the paddies
and the water buffalo stepped surely along terraces,
maybe fathers told their sons old tales.
When bombs smashed those mirrors
there was time only to scream.
There is an echo yet
of their speech which was like a song.
It was reported their singing resembled
the flight of moths in moonlight.
Who can say? It is silent now.

May 10, 2025 at 9:59 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

"Marriage" by Nick Flynn, from his book Low (2023). Stupendous final sentence, so simple yet devastating. For those who don't know, The Empire State Building was tallest in the world until the Twin Towers were constructed. It was again the tallest building in NYC after 9/11. #poetry #poetrycommunity

Title: "Marriage", a poem by Nick Flynn, from his 2023 book "Low".

I was married once, at least
we thought about it, it was in
b&w, we were tiny, walking
in a forest, the trees dwarfed
us—the trees had been married
forever, moss hung from their
fallen branches, we had to
step over them. We put on
the costumes—groom, bride—
these are jobs, I realized, that
only last a couple hours. Why
not try it, what could we lose,
we were already deep inside
the forest, we were already lost,
marriage was just where the path
was headed—I thought it would
make us more like the trees,
growing closer every year. I
wanted you to put your hand
out, to pull me closer, I wanted
all the way in. A child would be
the glue. Was it wrong to think of
a child as glue? Too late, we were
already in our costumes, we'd already
had a shower, maybe someone
would give us a red toaster. It was
just another day to get through,
even if it felt like everyone was
talking through long cardboard
tubes. In the distance, the Empire
State Building, no matter where
we were we could find a window
or a roof & it would be lit up red
or blue or green & that would
tell us what month we were in.
We could even climb it (it's not
impossible) & then look back
at all the windows we had looked
at it through, all over the city,
waking up in strange rooms,
& there it was, waiting. It was
the tallest for a while & then
it wasn't & then it was again.

May 10, 2025 at 6:02 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

"There are Mornings", by Lisel Mueller. One of my favorite #poems #poetry #writing #LiselMueller #poetrysky

Poem titled "There Are Mornings", written by Lisel Mueller

Even now, when the plot
calls for me to turn to stone,
the sun intervenes. Some mornings
in summer I step outside
and the sky opens
and pours itself into me
as if I were a saint
about to die. But the plot
calls for me to live,
be ordinary, say nothing
to anyone. Inside the house
the mirrors burn when I pass.

April 27, 2025 at 5:42 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

As the imperial boomerang circles back, Trump brings our country full-tilt into fascism, and wealth disparity soars, this poem about the Great Depression by the inimitable Ruth Stone feels very timely. #poetry #politics #favoritepoems

Title: Eden, Then and Now
poem by Ruth Stone

In ‘29 before the dust storms
sandblasted Indianapolis,
we believed in the milk company.
Milk came in glass bottles.
We spread dye-colored butter,
now connected to cancer.
We worked seven to seven
with no overtime pay;
pledged allegiance every day,
pitied the starving Armenians.
One morning in the midst of plenty,
there were folks out of context,
who were living on nothing.
Some slept in shacks
on the banks of the river.
This phenomenon investors said
would pass away.
My father worked for the daily paper.
He was a union printer;
lead slugs and blue smoke.
He worked with hot lead
at a two-ton machine,
in a low-slung seat;
a green-billed cap
pulled low on his forehead.
He gave my mother a dollar a day.
You could say we were rich.
This was the Jazz Age.
All over the country
the dispossessed wandered
with their hungry children,
harassed by the law.
When the market broke, bad losers
jumped out of windows.
It was time to lay an elegant table,
as it is now; corporate paradise;
the apple before the rot caved in.
It was the same worm
eating the same fruit.
In fact, the same Eden.

March 13, 2025 at 12:47 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

One of the most gorgeous shots in #Koyaanisqatsi (1982), done by overlaying multiple still-camera shots together. Directed by Godfrey Reggio, #cinematography Ron Fricke. #movies #1980s

March 5, 2025 at 10:42 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

"Bloom County", Berkeley Breathed, 1983 #BloomCounty #comics #bombs #political #1980s

February 28, 2025 at 8:23 PM

Sean Eaton (Poet)

@nomdelamer.bsky.social

One of my favorite #BloomCounty comics. "Tonight, the nation's capital remains in total chaos." Overreacting with force, so very American. By Berkeley Breathed, 1980s. #comedy #satire #comics