Comments on: In Memoriam: David Bromige

By: Jim Lyle

Jim Lyle — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 03:19:24 +0000

The distance between the places we lived and practiced poetry were considerable, but I have enjoyed David’s work. I myself turned to poetry late in life; I wish time a distance were not
so large and so dear.

Jim Lyle (Past Lake County Poet Laurate)

By: Layne Russell

Layne Russell — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 07:08:59 +0000

http://davidbromigepoet.com

The site was originally going to be the official David Bromige site, with David’s blessing. Now it is a goodbye.

By: John Oliver Simon

John Oliver Simon — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 15:55:58 +0000

David Bromige was a sweet and saucy man. I particularly appreciated that he showed up for our 40-year reunion of Berkeley 1968 poets last year. I always thought, ah, someday we’ll hang out. And there’s mortality for you. Talking about closure. Here’s Bromige translating Rilke into Californian:

First Rilke, in Stephen Mitchell’s translation:

Autumn

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander along the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.

Now Bromige:

Fall

(Rilke into Californian)

Man, where’d the time go? Detroit?.
But summer was really, really great.

Stand that side of the sundial, will ya?
I want to dig the shadows.

Robert Duncan’s freaking in the meadow.

Those apples can’t get a whole lot riper.
Give em a couple more hot days.
My friends who have the winery are already making the wine.

It’s getting chilly, nights. If you don’t have a pad by now,
Too bad. If you’re not seeing someone
You’re likely stuck that way, they went back to school.

Crack a book yourself. Write in Starbucks.
Go walkabout downtown. [Time passes]. Hey, lookit
the leaves, wind, etc. doing their thing. Rustle rustle.
Contrast and compare yourself. Cool!

By: Rachel Loden

Rachel Loden — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 10:55:39 +0000

Beautiful post, Doug. Hard to imagine a better remembrance of the man. Thanks for this gift, which I treasure.

By: Francisco Aragón

Francisco Aragón — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 16:24:45 +0000

Very moving piece, Doug. Thanks.

By: Kent Johnson

Kent Johnson — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 19:06:52 +0000

Great post D.A. Powell.

Here’s a link to a site hosted by David Bromige’s family. Lots of people have posted memories and tributes there:

http://bromige.wordpress.com/memories-thoughts-reflections/

Kent

By: Don Share

Don Share — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 15:42:14 +0000

Dictation – David Bromige

At last the gods have left me
free to do
wherever I am moved,

am I forbidden? then
remember to forget,
if also only by,

old patterns grave
others wove in me –
abandoned

where I am
right, he is
wrong to me,

but in his own
right, right, as day
to me Pacific

over London lies
night, & rightly so,
what though I take it lightly?

Free to believe
whatever
will I will

I am, I
have that right
I’ve heard.

- Poetry, March 1968