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Index » Entertainment » Books » Poetry Forum Page: 1, 2, 3 ... 192, 193, 194  Next
Post to this Topic
sdwright
Sink or Swim
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Location: underwater
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Taurus
Chinese Yr: Snake


Posted: Feb 20, 2018 - 9:17am

 helenofjoy wrote:

I wanted to share this poem with folks who would undoubtedly appreciate it as much as I do. 

 {...............................................................}{#Umbrella}

Author note: Even now, this poem remains one of those very few times where I said what I wanted and meant to say - how very rare that is, how precious. I don't know what to do with Danny's flutes. I can't look at them and bear their silence... but I can't not look at them and remember their songs, either...from my book, "The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems"

Wanda Lea Brayton



 
Precious indeed.  Many thanks for sharing such touching words.  Joyous Tuesday to you  {#Daisy}
ScottN
We're all riders on this train
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Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Feb 20, 2018 - 9:03am

 Antigone wrote:
Pity the nation whose people are sheep,
and whose shepherds mislead them.
Pity the nation whose leaders are liars, whose sages are silenced,
and whose bigots haunt the airwaves.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice,
except to praise conquerors and acclaim the bully as hero
and aims to rule the world with force and by torture.
Pity the nation that knows no other language but its own
and no other culture but its own.
Pity the nation whose breath is money
and sleeps the sleep of the too well fed.
Pity the nation — oh, pity the people who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away.
My country, tears of thee, sweet land of liberty.

~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti
 
*bump*
helenofjoy
What Day Is This?
helenofjoy Avatar

Location: Lincoln, Nebraska
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Cancer
Chinese Yr: Pig


Posted: Feb 18, 2018 - 6:57am

I wanted to share this poem with folks who would undoubtedly appreciate it as much as I do. 

 

Never Goodbye

When your last poem crashes

into the shores of my soul like a rogue wave,

I will incline myself and dive into its offerings,

knowing there are jewels awaiting those who strive to go

beneath the shallows and into deeper waters,

trusting the tides to carry them back home -

I will not fear the darkness or the light that stretches

above the slow currents as mist.

 

When my bare toes dig into the soil

and plant their roots in the edges of your well-tended garden,

I trust such seeds will take more than a moment to rise

into bloom, permeating the air with their singular fragrances,

to flourish, unmatched, by any other flower's grace.

 

When Autumn comes in her inevitable way, her arms wide

and succulent with the comfort of an Indian Summer,

I will watch the wind curl its fist tighter with each passing day -

as the leaves chatter and spiral-dance, evoking your memory,

I'll whisper your name for each bright ember that reaches,

each wisp of smoke that lifts into the sky, seeking its own thunder.

 

When I miss you (and so I shall), I will softly sigh

and pause to remember that you are still here,

still vibrant, still a part of every molecule we breath...

yet, when I hear a wooden flute's more dulcet tones,

a tear may form within my eye, unbidden -

 

I will not wipe it away, nor bow my head.

Author note: Even now, this poem remains one of those very few times where I said what I wanted and meant to say - how very rare that is, how precious. I don't know what to do with Danny's flutes. I can't look at them and bear their silence... but I can't not look at them and remember their songs, either...from my book, "The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems"

Wanda Lea Brayton


sdwright
Sink or Swim
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Location: underwater
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Taurus
Chinese Yr: Snake


Posted: Feb 9, 2018 - 10:18am

Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater 1 - WW Denslow - Project Gutenberg etext 18546.jpg

ScottN
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Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Feb 9, 2018 - 10:12am

RETURN

Gala Mukomolova

 

There are poets with history and poets without history, Tsvetsaeva

      claimed living
through the ruin of Russia. 
Karina says disavow every time I see her. We, the daughters between

      countries,
wear our mean mothers like scarves around our necks.
Every visit, mine recounts all the wrongs done against her
ring sent for polishing returned with a lesser diamond, Years of never

      rest and,
she looks at me, of nothing to be proud of.
I am covered in welts and empty pockets so large sobs escape me in the

      backroom

of my Landlord's fabric shop. He moves to wipe my tears
as if I’m his daughter or

I’m no one’s daughter.
It’s true, I let him take my hand, I am a girl who needs something.

      I slow cook bone

grief, use a weak voice.
My mother calls me the girl with holes in her hands, every time I lose

      something. All Russian daughters were snowflakes once, and in their hair a ribbon

      long
as their body knotted and knotted and knotted into a large translucent

      bow.
It happens, teachers said, that a child between countries will refuse to

      speak.
A girl with a hole in her throat, every day I opened the translation

      book.
Silent, I took my shoes off when I came home, I
put my house clothes on.
We had no songs, few rituals. On Yom Kippur, we lit a candle for the

      dead
and no one knew a prayer.
We kept the candle lit, that’s all.

The wave always returns, and always returns a different wave.
I was small. I built a self outside my self because a child needs shelter. Not even you knew I was strange,
I ate the food my family ate, I answered to my name.


Antigone

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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Jan 22, 2018 - 5:13am

I wear my mother’s
Gloves. And it’s like she’s holding
My hands in her hands.
Antigone

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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Jan 17, 2018 - 2:44pm

Pink and grey clouds snow-
Drift across the pale blue sun-
Set sky as we walk.
Antigone

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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Dec 31, 2017 - 3:14pm

The dusting of snow
Highlights the woods and shows me
Things I've never seen.
Antigone

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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Dec 30, 2017 - 10:03am

New Year Poem by May Sarton 1993

Let us step outside for a moment
As the sun breaks through clouds
And shines on wet new fallen snow,
And breathe the new air.
So much has died that had to die this year.
We are dying away from things.
It is a necessity—we have to do it
Or we shall be buried under the magazines,
The too many clothes, the too much food.
We have dragged it all around
Like dung beetles
Who drag piles of dung
Behind them on which to feed,
In which to lay their eggs.
Let us step outside for a moment
Among ocean, clouds, a white field,
Islands floating in the distance.
They have always been there.
But we have not been there.
We are going to drive slowly
And see the small poor farms,
The lovely shapes of leafless trees
Their shadows blue on the snow.
We are going to learn the sharp edge
Of perception after a day’s fast.
There is nothing to fear.
About this revolution…
Though it will change our minds.
Aggression, violence, machismo
Are fading from us
Like old photographs
Faintly ridiculous
(Did a man actually step like a goose
To instill fear?
Does a boy have to kill
To become a man?)
Already there are signs.
Young people plant gardens.
Fathers change their babies’ diapers
And are learning to cook.
Let us step outside for a moment.
It is all there
Only we have been slow to arrive
At a way of seeing it.
Unless the gentle inherit the earth
There will be no earth.


Antigone

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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Dec 29, 2017 - 2:48pm

In the bleak midwinter

By Christina Rossetti
 
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
 
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
 
Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.
 
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.
 
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.


oldviolin
ab origine
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Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Leo


Posted: Dec 18, 2017 - 10:11am

Crow Blacker Than Ever

When God, disgusted with man,
Turned towards heaven,
And man, disgusted with God,
Turned towards Eve,
Things looked like falling apart.

But Crow      Crow
Crow nailed them together,
Nailing Heaven and earth together-

So man cried, but with God’s voice.
And God bled, but with man’s blood.

Then heaven and earth creaked at the joint
Which became gangrenous and stank-
A horror beyond redemption.

The agony did not diminish.

Man could not be man nor God God.

The agony

Grew.

Crow

Grinned

Crying: “This is my Creation, ”

Flying the black flag of himself.

—Ted Hughes


Antigone

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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Dec 15, 2017 - 4:30pm

Orion lies on
The horizon. He is my
Lover, cold and lost.
ScottFromWyoming
I eat pints
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Location: Powell
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Pisces
Chinese Yr: Tiger


Posted: Dec 11, 2017 - 7:10pm

 kurtster wrote:

This is what led me to that ... had to see it to find out what they were talking about.
 
It was such a big deal when Bob wasn't going to go to Stockholm, I'm pretty sure we streamed it live, all the pomp and circumstance leading up to it and the orchestra and *clank* ... I know I gasped out loud and it was an eternity for her, I'm sure. I felt awful for her. She's done some stuff I can do without but Horses and Easter, hoo boy. 
kurtster

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Location: drifting
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Libra
Chinese Yr: Dragon


Posted: Dec 11, 2017 - 5:31pm

 ScottFromWyoming wrote:

That was hard to watch. But I'll know my song well before I start singin'

 
ironic ...  I will admit my eyes got a little weepy towards the end.

This is what led me to that ... had to see it to find out what they were talking about.
ScottFromWyoming
I eat pints
ScottFromWyoming Avatar

Location: Powell
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Pisces
Chinese Yr: Tiger


Posted: Dec 11, 2017 - 3:55pm

 kurtster wrote:


 
That was hard to watch. But I'll know my song well before I start singin'
kurtster

kurtster Avatar

Location: drifting
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Libra
Chinese Yr: Dragon


Posted: Dec 11, 2017 - 3:02pm


oldviolin
ab origine
oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Leo


Posted: Dec 10, 2017 - 10:12am

 

 Garments

Upon a day Beauty and Ugliness met on the shore of a sea. And they said to one another, “Let us bathe in the sea.”

Then they disrobed and swam in the waters. And after a while Ugliness came back to shore and garmented himself with the garments of Beauty and walked away.

And Beauty too came out of the sea, and found not her raiment, and she was too shy to be naked, therefore she dressed herself with the raiment of Ugliness. And Beauty walked her way.

And to this very day men and women mistake the one for the other.

Yet some there are who have beheld the face of Beauty, and they know her notwithstanding her garments. And some there be who know the face of Ugliness, and the cloth conceals him not from their eyes.

 

Khalil Gibran


ScottN
We're all riders on this train
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Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Dec 8, 2017 - 10:40pm

 Antigone wrote:

I measure every Grief I meet (561)

I measure every Grief I meet

With narrow, probing, eyes – 

I wonder if It weighs like Mine – 

Or has an Easier size.

 

I wonder if They bore it long – 

Or did it just begin – 

I could not tell the Date of Mine – 

It feels so old a pain – 

 

I wonder if it hurts to live – 

And if They have to try – 

And whether – could They choose between – 

It would not be – to die – 

 

I note that Some – gone patient long – 

At length, renew their smile – 

An imitation of a Light

That has so little Oil – 

 

I wonder if when Years have piled – 

Some Thousands – on the Harm – 

That hurt them early – such a lapse

Could give them any Balm – 

 

Or would they go on aching still

Through Centuries of Nerve – 

Enlightened to a larger Pain – 

In Contrast with the Love – 

 

The Grieved – are many – I am told – 

There is the various Cause – 

Death – is but one – and comes but once – 

And only nails the eyes – 

 

There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold – 

A sort they call "Despair" – 

There's Banishment from native Eyes – 

In sight of Native Air – 

 

And though I may not guess the kind – 

Correctly – yet to me

A piercing Comfort it affords

In passing Calvary – 

 

To note the fashions – of the Cross – 

And how they're mostly worn – 

Still fascinated to presume

That Some – are like my own – 

 ~Emily Dickinson



 
*bump*
Antigone

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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Nov 22, 2017 - 12:52pm

The cold, late after-
Noon light filters through the trees.
The woods are aglow.

My cheeks tingle and
My lungs are filled to bursting.
Thankful for these things.


ScottN
We're all riders on this train
ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Nov 8, 2017 - 8:21am

Hope is the thing with feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

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