Poems from the Stone Soup Anthology

By Joseph Puleo

Jack Powers started Stone Soup Poets in Boston in the early 1970s. It was located at the foot of Beacon Hill, near where I was living at the time.

Many of the most notable poets of the time were connected with Stone Soup Poets, through Jack. They included, Allen Ginsberg, Barbra Holland, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, John Wieners, and Anne Sexton.

I can recall stopping by the Harvard Gardens, across the street from Stone Soup, before the Tuesday night readings. I’d put down a drink or two to gain a bit of confidence before I read. 

As an added benefit, it was also a hangout for the nurses from nearby Mass General Hospital.

Ann Sexton

Leaving Those We’ve Touched


The leafy fire on this bright October day

suddenly dwindled into shadows

And those who weren’t busy dying

listened by your door at your silence

And winter, wearing a dark coat of sky

fell to reciting such trivia as your eulogy

 

Author’s note: As a member of the Stone Soup Poetry, I got to meet Ann and many other poets. One night she came in unannounced and read one her new poems.

 

Anne Sexton had won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1967 for her book, Live or Die. Shortly after her visit to Stone Soup Poets, she moved on to her next life. I wrote this as my humble tribute to her

All we will be

is what we leave in the hearts

of the people we have loved

and the people who have loved us



When we go away

time will pass and memories will fade

as it always does, except for love

the greatest gift of all, is without end

The Future

Music’s wind sings a quiet song amid the rustle

And down the paths of our past autumns

We try to understand, we try to listen to

What had brought our future to present

 

Reaching I clutch a withered leave

Its veins now drained of color

Its skin parched like the taste of sand

Long given way to the arid desert sun

 

To reach out and touch a moist mirage

To feel soft wetness bubbling once more

Not dried like life turned to stone

Of burnt hay never harvested, wasted away

Once sitting beneath the birch of my boyhood

We held onto each other’s shining stars

Discovering all their secrets while cradled

In the loving lap of a summer breeze

 

It tussled your hair across the face of my youth

As the circle of our world surrounded us

In sweet protection with a loving embrace

So fleetingly short in time’s marked spans

 

The present is now running quickly

Headlong into the future once more

Tossing the past in defiance to memory

And irreverent to what caution to be heeded

 

And long, long ago sitting in a field

By my mother’s knee, safe with in her aura

I was drawn by the magnets of curiosity

Out of her shadow, beyond her apron strings

 

To assert my first twinges of adolescence

Seeking adventures that were short lived

And now just memories covered in dust

Locked faded in a closet near my youth

 

Love’s Eulogy

Snowflakes falling gently

From the summer sky

Drift down earthward steadily

But it’s the middle of July

 

And the fiery yellow sun

Whose powers are all gone

Can no longer control the snow

On this summer’s morn’

 

And the cold summer wind

Billows on the meadow green

Unchecked it blights all life

And blows the forest clean

 

The weatherman is dead now

For he saw the last forecast

He knew that he could never tell

The end and come to pass

 

And the snow is drifting higher

Than the imagination can conceive

Covering man and his world

With no one left to grieve

 

And off to find a new life

Goes this planet dressed in white

It finally has got rid of us

And started on its flight

 

To bump off distant stars

And explore brand new skies

For we really had it coming

Caused our own demise

 

And frozen within her surface

Is a time long past

A time when you and I had loved

A time that went so fast

You and Me

Children

I watched you caught up in some little chore

so pre-occupied unaware of my stare

 

Your presence filled our tiny room

with the gentle warmth of your love

 

I whispered I love you

a smile traced your lips

 

I knew you hadn’t heard me

but that’s the way it was

you and me

 

This child of mine I never had

 

Watches within my spirit

 

At the sadness on the nightly news

 

And thanks me, yes thanks me

 

For never having been born