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Index » Entertainment » Books » Poetry Forum Page: 1, 2, 3 ... 206, 207, 208  Next
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Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: May 7, 2022 - 7:11am

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come, to take you back.
 
Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
 
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.
 
Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.
 
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
 
Be excessively gentle with yourself.
 
John O'Donohue
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Mar 16, 2022 - 5:26am

Elegy
Patrick Cabello Hansel
 
On your face, your beloved face,
your sweat skinned face, the remnant
grace of mother, father hidden there,
the wind of years, the triumphs
and the savagery, on your springtime
harvest nightfall sunlit face, let me
linger there. Let me touch it as
a baby, my fingers unfolded gently,
my voice harboring no words, let
me touch my face to your face,
Father, let us be here, face to face,
in this land we have sown and reaped,
in that time that has no wind, no
words to worry, let us touch,
Father, let us linger, let us be.
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Mar 8, 2022 - 4:49am

Dark Charms
by Dorianne Laux
 
Eventually the future shows up everywhere:
those burly summers and unslept nights in deep
lines and dark splotches, thinning skin.
Here's the corner store grown to a condo,
the bike reduced to one spinning wheel,
the ghost of a dog that used to be, her trail
no longer trodden, just a dip in the weeds.
The clear water we drank as thirsty children
still runs through our veins. Stars we saw then
we still see now, only fewer, dimmer, less often.
The old tunes play and continue to move us
in spite of our learning, the wraith of romance,
lost innocence, literature, the death of the poets.
We continue to speak, if only in whispers,
to something inside us that longs to be named.
We name it the past and drag it behind us,
bag like a lung filled with shadow and song,
dreams of running, the keys to lost names.
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Mar 7, 2022 - 5:14am

NEXT YEAR
by Gary Johnson
 
When we win the lottery next year,
Let’s buy a flat in Paris, France,
And I will worship you, my dear,
In lovely rooms with flowering plants.
Me, a somewhat endearing old relic,
A jowly but still charming man,
And you my darling, rather angelic
Reclining prettily on a silk divan.
 
When I’m tired and don’t feel well,
Pack me off to a nice hotel
With Egyptian sheets and fresh-cut flowers
And room service is 24 hours.
When I die, which I will do,
Wear black for a month or two,
Then look around, find someone new.
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Feb 25, 2022 - 4:37am

Everything but God
by Anne Pierson Wiese
 
In Europe you can see cathedrals
from far away. As you drive toward them
across the country they are visible—stony
and roosted on the land—even before the towns
that surround them. In New York you come
upon them with no warning, turn a corner
and there one is: on 5th Avenue St. Patrick's,
spiny and white as a shell in a gift shop; dark
St. Agnes lost near a canal and some housing
projects in Brooklyn; or St. John the Divine,
listed in every guidebook yet seeming always
like a momentary vision on Amsterdam
Avenue, with its ragged halo of trees, wide stone
steps ascending directly out of traffic.
 
Lately I have found myself unable
to pass by. The candles' anonymous
wishes waver and flame near the entrance, bright
numerous, transitory and eternal
as a migration: the birds that fly away
are never exactly the same as those that return.
The gray, flowering arches' ribs rise
until they fade, the bones so large and old
they belong to an undetected time
on earth. Here and there people's small backs
in prayer, the windowed saints' robes' orchid
glow, the shadows—ghosts of a long nocturnal
snow from a sky below when we did not yet
exist, with our questions tender as burns.
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Feb 17, 2022 - 5:55pm

Snow, Aldo
By Kate DiCamillo
 
Once I was in New York,
in Central Park, and I saw
an old man in a black overcoat walking
a black dog. This was springtime
and the trees were still
bare and the sky was
gray and low and it began, suddenly,
to snow:
big fat flakes
that twirled and landed on the
black of the man's overcoat and
the black dog's fur. The dog
lifted his face and stared
up at the sky. The man looked
up, too. "Snow, Aldo," he said to the dog,
"snow." And he laughed. The dog looked
at him and wagged his tail.
 
If I was in charge of making
snow globes, this is what I would put inside:
the old man in the black overcoat,
the black dog,
two friends with their faces turned up to the sky
as if they were receiving a blessing,
as if they were being blessed together
by something
as simple as snow
in March.
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Feb 16, 2022 - 7:22am

Cloud veil’d moon in the
West. Dawn streaks to the east. Hap-
-py Birthday to me!

miamizsun

miamizsun Avatar

Location: (3261.3 Miles SE of RP)
Gender: Male


Posted: Jan 31, 2022 - 3:11pm

Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Jan 17, 2022 - 1:30pm

 ScottN wrote:

Good Bones

Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.


A fave.

oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Jan 17, 2022 - 10:05am

 Manbird wrote:


I love it!


Good. Make this place beautiful...
Manbird

Manbird Avatar

Location: Owl Creek Bridge
Gender: Male


Posted: Jan 17, 2022 - 9:58am

 ScottN wrote:

Good Bones

Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.



I love it!
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Jan 10, 2022 - 10:55am

Good Bones

Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.

Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Jan 5, 2022 - 6:15am

 ScottN wrote:

Returning

EMILY DICKINSON I YEARS had been from home,
And now before the door,
I dare not open, lest a face
I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
And ask my business there.
My business, — just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there? I fumbled at my nerve,
I scanned the windows near;
The silence like an ocean rolled,
And broke against my ear. I laughed a wooden laugh
That I could fear a door,
Who danger and the dead had faced,
But never quaked before. I fitted to the latch
My hand with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there. I moved my fingers off
As cautiously as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house. 
 
{#Eek}
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Jan 4, 2022 - 4:37pm


Returning

EMILY DICKINSON

I YEARS had been from home,
And now before the door,
I dare not open, lest a face
I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine
And ask my business there.
My business, — just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve,
I scanned the windows near;
The silence like an ocean rolled,
And broke against my ear.

I laughed a wooden laugh
That I could fear a door,
Who danger and the dead had faced,
But never quaked before.

I fitted to the latch
My hand with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off
As cautiously as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house. 



Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Jan 1, 2022 - 7:24am

NEW YEAR'S DAY
by Billy Collins
 
Everyone has two birthdays
according to the English essayist Charles Lamb,
the day you were born and New Year’s Day—
a droll observation to mull over
as I wait for the tea water to boil in a kitchen
that is being transformed by the morning light
into one of those brilliant rooms of Matisse.
“No one ever regarded the First of January
with indifference,” writes Lamb,
for unlike Groundhog Day or the feast of the Annunciation,
this one marks nothing but the passage of time,
I realized, as I lowered a tin diving bell
of tea leaves into a little body of roiling water.
I admit to regarding my own birthday
as the joyous anniversary of my existence
probably because I was, and remain
to this day in late December, an only child.
And as an only child—
a tea-sipping, toast-nibbling only child
in a colorful room this morning—
I would welcome an extra birthday,
one more opportunity to stop what we are doing
for a moment and reflect on my being here on earth.
And one more birthday might be a consolation
to us all for having to face a death-day, too,
an X in a square
on some kitchen calendar of the future,
the day when each of us is thrown off the train of time
by a burly, heartless conductor
as it roars through the months and years,
party hats, candles, confetti, and horoscopes
billowing up in the turbulent storm of its wake.
.
.
. from the book, "Ballistics," © Random House 2008
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Jan 1, 2022 - 5:53am

Another Year
by Gary Johnson
 
Another year gone and the old man with the scythe
Is mowing closer. He hasn’t been subtle, has he.
Too many good people gone, and I could sit and cry
For them except that you look exceptionally snazzy
Despite the miles on your odometer,
As if you have a few more aces up your sleeve,
Maybe you were born under a lucky comet or
Maybe it’s the wine, but I do believe
When I look at you and take your hand you’re
Positively glowing. Maybe we’ve been sorry a
Long enough time and now we get some grandeur
And do our dance and sing our aria.
    May this year bring us before it has flown
    All we would have wished for had we only known.
GeneP59

GeneP59 Avatar

Location: On the edge of tomorrow looking back at yesterday.
Gender: Male


Posted: Dec 20, 2021 - 5:15pm

Tomorrow the winter solstice creeps up upon us
Wearing wings of fractal flakes made of fluffy white snow
It says that it needs to trust those of us
To make all those worthy a happy warm glow 
Manbird

Manbird Avatar

Location: Owl Creek Bridge
Gender: Male


Posted: Dec 20, 2021 - 2:31pm

 Antigone wrote:

Winter’s long shadows
Creep up the hills, lit briefly
As if by spring’s fire.




Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female


Posted: Dec 20, 2021 - 2:15pm

Winter’s long shadows
Creep up the hills, lit briefly
As if by spring’s fire.
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary
Gender: Male


Posted: Dec 10, 2021 - 6:21am

Happy Birthday Emily Dickinson
 

My life closed twice before its close

by Emily Dickinson

My life closed twice before its close -
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me

So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.
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