Erum Khan/File

An ode to Tele-BEARS

A drowsy morning up for class, with sweatshirt on, coffee to go, Your laptop on, but busy with things more pertinent than writing notes, You scan ScheduleBuilder and BerkeleyTime to feel the tiniest bit more prepared And run out of lecture halfway through to go complete your Tele-BEARS. It takes
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Read Aloud: Dirty Limericks

A bit less than 200 years ago, Edward Lear sat down somewhere in England and wrote a particular series of poems in a particular style that eventually was dubbed “limerick style.” As an isolated event, this was not particularly revolutionary. But the effect was big! After Lear published his compilation
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Poetry: Dancing Myself Clean

Dancing Myself Clean   Wild grief sinks Like those bronze Stalin statues That stood in my backyard   Or museums on mountain peaks With karma temples in their eyes.   Tripping down macaroni aisles My elbows are peeling like a cheese grater That melts into my drifting thumbprints Because my
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Poem: Love along the Way

This would be easier if I shed data, sought torture or was looking for love along the way. Doing the 9-5, the rattlesnake on the sandstone gets nicked by everything churning in the wind. The July sun tunnels overhead. My van rusts where the paint’s chipped. Steel, the desert must
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Three Poems

Cartoon Sunrise A kid walking barefoot to Los Angeles rarely moves faster than traffic. The wind comes, and is like students rushing to class. Silence is swiftly abandoned. In winter, the hissing and fangs on the low-slung rails can only be the electrical towers, their turf doubling as soccer fields
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Three Poems

He speaks of poetry and the words slip from his mouth like wisps of smoke curling in the still air, nothing breaking the purity of the breaths released when his lips form vowels singing azaleas, hollyhock, and primrose. The lips lightly press together to form those brief interruptions in speech,
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Deviant Dream

Deviant Dream: intellegencia queen Light, she is prone of it, she is immune to it. It drowns upon the faces of everyone else but she- But she — a deviant being, a socially deviant being. She done learnt to survive — cockroach ass human being! The light reject her because
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Ed Roberson, UC Berkeley’s poet-in-residence

Ed Roberson’s poems come to him in fits and bursts, from images of years past and experiences that happened only moments ago. The Chicago-based poet has had a long and fruitful career weaving memory and imagination into verse, and he’s in Berkeley for the semester to instruct students on how
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