Tamara Madison
  • Tamara Madison
  • Note from Lover Number 403
  • These photons traveled 13 billion years
  • So you could see them on your laptop screen
  • Ten thousand blips of light, each one
  • A galaxy in its own right, each one only
  • One of the hundred billion galaxies
  • In the universe. All around us
  • What we’re sure is empty is actually full:
  • This glass of water, for example —
  • Teeming with organisms I’m glad
  • I can’t see. The hair you left on my pillow —
  • Full of tiny creatures I can’t make out
  • With my naked eye. Your smile —
  • Full of experiences you had before me.
  • Your greeting — more full of lies than a pack
  • Of lawmakers. When I peer into your
  • Ultra deep field, how many galaxies
  • Of one-night-stands will I see sprinkled
  • Among your handfuls of romances
  • That lasted for more than one year,
  • Never more than two? Ah fair one,
  • I am closing my telescope now and my
  • Microscope too, to return to the well-worn
  • Minutiae of my own life’s cozy galaxy.


Tamara Madison is the author of the collection
Wild Domestic, which was published by Pearl Editions in July, 2011. Her chapbook “The Belly Remembers” won the Jane Buel Bradley prize in 2004 and was also published by Pearl. Her work has appeared in numerous small press journals, including Chiron Review, Spot Lit, Hobble Street Review, and Tears in the Fence. Two of her poems were also recently featured on National Public Radio’s “Writer’s Almanac.” Tamara teaches French and English in Los Angeles. “Ultra Deep Field” is from Madison’s collection Wild Domestic and is reprinted by permission. Author’s photo by Sharon de la O.

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Comments

nan shartel Jan. 28, 2012 @ 11:38 a.m.

i read the new one each week Mindy and usually comment ;-D)

poets need props 4 their work to blossom!!!!

but i wonder if the poets that r published here ever read ours...hahahahahaha

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tamaraeve Jan. 22, 2012 @ 9:35 a.m.

Well, please come to my reading at Korky's in Old Town on February 10th! It will be fun. I won't let you down!

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Twister Jan. 22, 2012 @ 4:13 p.m.

Note from Lover Number 403

(GAwD-Dang! Statistics alone STD's me upon my own petard, my pirot, my bamboo-hoo)

These photons traveled 13 billion years So you could see them on your laptop screen Ten thousand blips of light, each one A galaxy in its own right, each one only One of the hundred billion galaxies In the universe.

(And here alla time I thot my glance was a shot that tranfixed your gaze for daze . . . )

All around us What we’re sure is empty is actually full: This glass of water, for example — Teeming with organisms I’m glad I can’t see.

(Surely our communal immunal systems will fix 'em)

The hair you left on my pillow —

(Not MY DNA, thank you verry much)

Full of tiny creatures I can’t make out With my naked eye.

(Naw, you kept yer eye clothed, m'beauty, so as to be guarded frum seein' m'ugly)

Your smile —

('twas a grimmace, m'deer'a . . .)

Full of experiences you had before me.

(I, unlike you, ain't countin' but gosh; couldn't be four hundred and three . . . Oh, no, not ME! It couldn't BEE . . .)

Your greeting — more full of lies than a pack Of lawmakers.

(Greeting, my fan, ie; that wuz no greeting, that was my sighs, and that pack was my awemakers, sez me, sez me, m'self and aye, I)

When I peer into your Ultra deep field, how many galaxies Of one-night-stands will I see sprinkled

(When I leer into your deepest whirling-- weren't you?-- how COULD I do such a thing as a won nite stan' if 'twernt for one night stands with some damned excitin' and instructive exceptions?)

Among your handfuls of romances That lasted for more than one year, Never more than two?

(True, but they were moments of in sane ity bity errers of judgment; hoo ere I to judge?)

Ah fair one,

(Yet the most unfariest of all)

I am closing my telescope now and my Microscope too, to return to the well-worn Minutiae of my own life’s cozy galaxy.

(Cum again?)

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nan shartel Jan. 28, 2012 @ 11:36 a.m.

why Twister!!!

u surprised me with ur comical dissection of this poem...is there some ulterior motivation going on here...the swamp translation is rockin'!!!!

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Twister Jan. 28, 2012 @ 1:43 p.m.

Poe-its ere gutsy 'frady-cats How-lin 'stead o' gettin' on w'it

Fan y up yer moon a rise 'n talkin' noon- sense eh tivitae train 'n a-cumin' fer d' pun-in' Hun-in

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nan shartel Jan. 28, 2012 @ 3:45 p.m.

ur right...poets r gutsy fraidy cats...lolol

they think rhyme is their armor in a desolate world of enigmatic no nothings whose hearts can kick their minds into action by plying them with acceptable rhythmic nursery rhymes

howlin' to be able to get on with it maybe...

hahahahahahahahaha...i like ya Twister my lad!!!!

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nan shartel Jan. 28, 2012 @ 10:47 p.m.

u r not homely u wanker!!!!

and ur not semantically challenged either...

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nan shartel Feb. 5, 2012 @ 1:11 p.m.

the better to hug u with my dear...hahahahahahahaha

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tamaraeve Feb. 4, 2012 @ 10:37 a.m.

The poet very much enjoyed reading Twister's response! (For a moment I thought it might be from the person who inspired the poem -- whew! I could tell it wasn't.)

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Twister Feb. 5, 2012 @ 7:50 a.m.

In this sneaky world where everything is pixelated is it any wander that communication is confusion that wears a conundrum ?

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bondgrrrl Sept. 10, 2013 @ 11:30 a.m.

She'll be featured on KPFK 90.7 FM and www.kpfk.org Wed. 9/11/13 at 8:30pm on Poets Cafe with Jaimes Palacio, hope you can tune in.

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