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Counting with Pictures - yuel - Oct 20, 2020 - 1:39am
 
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how do you feel right now? - Steely_D - Oct 19, 2020 - 7:23pm
 
Trump - R_P - Oct 19, 2020 - 6:50pm
 
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I have no idea what this thread was about, but let's talk... - miamizsun - Oct 19, 2020 - 9:35am
 
Art Show - Coaxial - Oct 19, 2020 - 5:33am
 
Graphic designers, ho! - Proclivities - Oct 19, 2020 - 5:27am
 
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audiophile - davidharper - Oct 19, 2020 - 3:34am
 
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You might be getting old if...... - Ohmsen - Oct 18, 2020 - 5:00pm
 
Pernicious Pious Proclivities Particularized Prodigiously - R_P - Oct 18, 2020 - 3:10pm
 
Feature Request: My Ratings Sort by Date - jarro - Oct 18, 2020 - 2:19pm
 
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Things You Thought Today - Ohmsen - Oct 18, 2020 - 11:56am
 
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Supreme Court: Who's Next? - Lazy8 - Oct 17, 2020 - 9:28pm
 
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Mixtape Culture Club - oldviolin - Oct 17, 2020 - 7:19pm
 
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Small-town news - Antigone - Oct 17, 2020 - 1:35pm
 
Philosophy (Meaty Metaphysical Munchables!) - R_P - Oct 17, 2020 - 10:28am
 
Radio Paradise is awesome! - Steely_D - Oct 17, 2020 - 9:09am
 
Name My Band - steeler - Oct 17, 2020 - 8:51am
 
Lyrics That Remind You of Someone - oldviolin - Oct 17, 2020 - 7:03am
 
Play the Blues - sirdroseph - Oct 17, 2020 - 4:20am
 
Race in America - sirdroseph - Oct 17, 2020 - 4:03am
 
Astronomy! - Red_Dragon - Oct 16, 2020 - 5:40pm
 
It's the economy stupid. - westslope - Oct 16, 2020 - 3:18pm
 
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Climate Change - R_P - Oct 16, 2020 - 10:57am
 
Turkey Sandwiches? Veev Wants to Know What's For Lunch - oldviolin - Oct 16, 2020 - 9:43am
 
RP App in Android Auto: - jwaldrep - Oct 16, 2020 - 9:30am
 
Talk Behind Their Backs Forum - oldviolin - Oct 16, 2020 - 8:52am
 
American Justice - Red_Dragon - Oct 16, 2020 - 7:59am
 
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Taxes, Taxes, Taxes (and Taxes) - sirdroseph - Oct 16, 2020 - 4:57am
 
the Todd Rundgren topic - Steely_D - Oct 15, 2020 - 7:30pm
 
Trump Lies - R_P - Oct 15, 2020 - 7:01pm
 
Photos you have taken of your walks or hikes. - Antigone - Oct 15, 2020 - 2:53pm
 
MICHIGAN - Ohmsen - Oct 15, 2020 - 1:42pm
 
Automotive Lust - R_P - Oct 15, 2020 - 1:07pm
 
Annoying stuff. not things that piss you off, just annoyi... - Red_Dragon - Oct 15, 2020 - 12:58pm
 
What did you have for dinner? - nate917 - Oct 15, 2020 - 11:39am
 
Those Lovable Policemen - cc_rider - Oct 15, 2020 - 7:46am
 
• • • The Once-a-Day • • •  - oldviolin - Oct 15, 2020 - 7:07am
 
Would you drive this car for dating with ur girl? - islander - Oct 15, 2020 - 6:32am
 
What Did You Do Today? - davidharper - Oct 15, 2020 - 4:36am
 
Bike! - KurtfromLaQuinta - Oct 14, 2020 - 9:12pm
 
Country Up The Bumpkin - Ohmsen - Oct 14, 2020 - 4:19pm
 
Live Music - Ohmsen - Oct 14, 2020 - 4:11pm
 
Today in History - Jester - Oct 14, 2020 - 2:41pm
 
Environment - R_P - Oct 14, 2020 - 12:46pm
 
What are you listening to now? - westslope - Oct 14, 2020 - 12:17pm
 
Index » Entertainment » Books » Poetry Forum Page: 1, 2, 3 ... 201, 202, 203  Next
Post to this Topic
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Oct 14, 2020 - 9:53am

 Antigone wrote:
Messenger
 
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.

~ Mary Oliver

 
*bump*
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Oct 11, 2020 - 5:47pm

Family
by Grace Paley

My father was brilliant     embarrassed     funny     handsome
my mother was plain     serious     principled     kind
my grandmother was intelligent     lonesome for her
                                 other life     her dead children     silent
my aunt was beautiful     bitter     angry     loving

I fell among these adjectives in earliest childhood
and was nearly buried with opportunity
some of them stuck to me     others
finding me American and smooth slipped away
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Oct 8, 2020 - 9:37pm

I believe this needs a bump—from a couple years ago.

Manbird wrote:

August is Warm

This remarkable peach toast morning
Has so clearly gifted me
A bloom of rising spirit
In the slow adobe air
I touch stones and weave
Small grasses with my hands
I am light and brown and alive
This season
Healing season
Standing and turning to the Sun
To all my good good Fathers
Who wear my twisted scars
as the whip snake warms
On broken stones
On torn red rocks

I bake my bread
I burn my oil
I bend to the burning soil

My feet are dry and thin
And anxious to run
Sweeping
Into the dream of the swollen blue evening
Leaping
Into the hulking blue yeast
Of this soft and violet night
I have some turquoise and amber
Where the sweet and sour pull of flesh
Releases my talk song whisper
Releases my cactus flower scent
When the tumbling clay roof of the church
Gives up its heat
Like the smoke from the farmer's
Dark brown prayers
Then I will sleep and dream
Of the sad stray dog
We call Abandonado
Tomorrow we must visit the priest
He has injured himself
Again

 

Antigone

Antigone Avatar

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


Posted: Oct 6, 2020 - 11:38am

 ScottN wrote:

Before Dark
by Wendell Berry

From the porch at dusk I watched
a kingfisher wild in flight
he could only have made for joy.

He came down the river, splashing
against the water's dimming face
like a skipped rock, passing

on down out of sight. And still
I could hear the splashes
farther and farther away

as it grew darker. He came back
the same way, dusky as his shadow,
sudden beyond the willows.

The splashes went on out of hearing.
It was dark then. Somewhere
the night had accommodated him

—at the place he was headed for
or where, led by his delight,
he came.
 
Lovely. Berry is (one of) the best.
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Oct 6, 2020 - 11:33am

Before Dark
by Wendell Berry

From the porch at dusk I watched
a kingfisher wild in flight
he could only have made for joy.

He came down the river, splashing
against the water's dimming face
like a skipped rock, passing

on down out of sight. And still
I could hear the splashes
farther and farther away

as it grew darker. He came back
the same way, dusky as his shadow,
sudden beyond the willows.

The splashes went on out of hearing.
It was dark then. Somewhere
the night had accommodated him

—at the place he was headed for
or where, led by his delight,
he came.
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

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


Posted: Oct 2, 2020 - 2:42pm

How to be alone

Pádraig Ó Tuama

 

It all begins with knowing

nothing lasts forever.

So you might as well start packing now.

But, in the meantime,

practice being alive.

 

There will be a party

where you’ll feel like

nobody’s paying you attention.

And there will be a party

where attention’s all you’ll get.

What you need to do

is know how to talk to

yourself

between these parties.

 

And,

again,

there will be a day,

— a decade —

where you won’t

fit in with your body

even though you’re in

the only body you’re in.

 

You need to control

your habit of forgetting

to breathe.

 

Remember when you were younger

and you practiced kissing on your arm?

You were on to something then.

Sometimes harm knows its own healing

comfort its own intelligence.

Kindness too.

It needs no reason.

 

There is a you

telling you a story of you.

Listen to her.

 

Where do you feel

anxiety in your body?

The chest? The fist? The dream before waking?

The head that feels like it’s at the top of the swing

or the clutch of gut like falling

& falling & falling and falling

It knows something: you’re dying.

Try to stay alive.

 

For now, touch yourself.

I’m serious.

 

Touch your

self.

Take your hand

and place your hand

some place

upon your body.

And listen

to the community of madness

that

you are.

 

You are

such an

interesting conversation.

 

You belong

here.

 

ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Aug 31, 2020 - 8:28am

Parlor
by Rita Dove

We passed through
on the way to anywhere else.
No one lived there
but silence, a pale china gleam,

and the tired eyes of saints
aglow on velvet.
Mom says things are made
to be used. But Grandma insisted
peace was in what wasn't there,
strength in what was unsaid.

It would be nice to have a room
you couldn't enter, except in your mind.
I like to sit on my bed
plugged into my transistor radio,
"Moon River" pouring through my head.

How do you use life?
How do you feel it? Mom says

things harden with age; she says
Grandma is happier now. After the funeral,
I slipped off while they stood around
remembering-away from all
the talking and eating and weeping

to sneak a peek. She wasn't there.
Then I understood why
she had kept them just so:

so quiet and distant,
the things that she loved.

Ohmsen

Ohmsen Avatar

Location: Valhalla
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 13, 2020 - 8:59am



 oldviolin wrote:


 ScottN wrote:

Wrong forum?  I kinda like that stanza.
{#Cowboy}
 
I like it all. It's like validation...

 

The whole poem feels kinda like it's addressing me personally.  


Yet it's soothing as per it's well-wishing. ~ Thx!
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Aug 13, 2020 - 8:58am

 oldviolin wrote:


 ScottN wrote:

Wrong forum?  I kinda like that stanza. {#Cowboy}
 
I like it all. It's like validation...

 
Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails
because you can't stop smudging the stars
on those ten teeny American flags.
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 13, 2020 - 8:55am



 ScottN wrote:

Wrong forum?  I kinda like that stanza.
{#Cowboy}
 
I like it all. It's like validation...

ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Aug 13, 2020 - 8:50am

 oldviolin wrote:


 ScottN wrote:
French Chocolates
by Ellen Bass

If you have your health, you have everything
is something that's said to cheer you up
when you come home early and find your lover
arched over a stranger in a scarlet thong.

Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails
because you can't stop smudging the stars
on those ten teeny American flags.

I don't begrudge you your extravagant vitality.
May it blossom like a cherry tree. May the petals
of your cardiovascular excellence
and the accordion polka of your lungs
sweeten the mornings of your loneliness.


But for the ill, for you with nerves that fire
like a rusted-out burner on an old barbecue,
with bones brittle as spun sugar,
with a migraine hammering like a blacksmith

in the flaming forge of your skull,
may you be spared from friends who say,
God doesn't give you more than you can handle
and ask what gifts being sick has brought you.

May they just keep their mouths shut
and give you French chocolates and daffodils
and maybe a small, original Matisse,
say, Open Window, Collioure, so you can look out
at the boats floating on the dappled pink water.
 

Sheesh...
 
Wrong forum?  I kinda like that stanza. {#Cowboy}
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

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


Posted: Aug 9, 2020 - 6:24am

Fog like cotton wool
Muffles sound. We walk through the
Quiet neighborhoods.
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

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


Posted: Aug 9, 2020 - 6:24am

 oldviolin wrote:


 Antigone wrote:
I sink in the cool,
Quiet darkness, swimming to-
ward my private dreams.
 
Really nice 

 
Thank you, kind sir. {#Angel}
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 8, 2020 - 7:51am



 Antigone wrote:
I sink in the cool,
Quiet darkness, swimming to-
ward my private dreams.
 
Really nice 

oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Aug 7, 2020 - 4:18pm

Ars Poetica

A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit,

Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb,

Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has grown—

A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds.

*

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs,

Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,

Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind—

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs.

*

A poem should be equal to:
Not true.

For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf.

For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea—

A poem should not mean
But be.

BY ARCHIBALD MACLEISH
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

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


Posted: Jul 25, 2020 - 10:57am

I sink in the cool,
Quiet darkness, swimming to-
ward my private dreams.
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Jul 22, 2020 - 6:35am

The River at Wolf

Coming east we left the animals
pelican beaver osprey muskrat and snake   
their hair and skin and feathers
their eyes in the dark: red and green.   
Your finger drawing my mouth.
 
Blessed are they who remember
that what they now have they once longed for.
 
A day a year ago last summer
God filled me with himself, like gold, inside,   
deeper inside than marrow.
 
This close to God this close to you:
walking into the river at Wolf with
the animals. The snake’s
green skin, lit from inside. Our second life.
 
oldviolin

oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male


Posted: Jul 21, 2020 - 9:03am



 ScottN wrote:
French Chocolates
by Ellen Bass

If you have your health, you have everything
is something that's said to cheer you up
when you come home early and find your lover
arched over a stranger in a scarlet thong.

Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails
because you can't stop smudging the stars
on those ten teeny American flags.

I don't begrudge you your extravagant vitality.
May it blossom like a cherry tree. May the petals
of your cardiovascular excellence
and the accordion polka of your lungs
sweeten the mornings of your loneliness.


But for the ill, for you with nerves that fire
like a rusted-out burner on an old barbecue,
with bones brittle as spun sugar,
with a migraine hammering like a blacksmith

in the flaming forge of your skull,
may you be spared from friends who say,
God doesn't give you more than you can handle
and ask what gifts being sick has brought you.

May they just keep their mouths shut
and give you French chocolates and daffodils
and maybe a small, original Matisse,
say, Open Window, Collioure, so you can look out
at the boats floating on the dappled pink water.
 

Sheesh...
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Jul 21, 2020 - 8:04am

Dawn Revisited
by Rita Dove
 
Imagine you wake up
with a second chance: The blue jay
hawks his pretty wares
and the oak still stands, spreading
glorious shade. If you don’t look back,
the future never happens.
How good to rise in sunlight,
in the prodigal smell of biscuits –
eggs and sausage on the grill.
The whole sky is yours
to write on, blown open
to a blank page. Come on,
shake a leg! You’ll never know
who’s down there, frying those eggs,
if you don’t get up and see.
ScottN

ScottN Avatar

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


Posted: Jun 27, 2020 - 8:36am

French Chocolates
by Ellen Bass

If you have your health, you have everything
is something that's said to cheer you up
when you come home early and find your lover
arched over a stranger in a scarlet thong.

Or it could be you lose your job at Happy Nails
because you can't stop smudging the stars
on those ten teeny American flags.

I don't begrudge you your extravagant vitality.
May it blossom like a cherry tree. May the petals
of your cardiovascular excellence
and the accordion polka of your lungs
sweeten the mornings of your loneliness.

But for the ill, for you with nerves that fire
like a rusted-out burner on an old barbecue,
with bones brittle as spun sugar,
with a migraine hammering like a blacksmith

in the flaming forge of your skull,
may you be spared from friends who say,
God doesn't give you more than you can handle
and ask what gifts being sick has brought you.

May they just keep their mouths shut
and give you French chocolates and daffodils
and maybe a small, original Matisse,
say, Open Window, Collioure, so you can look out
at the boats floating on the dappled pink water.
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