Thursday, September 21, 2017

Poetry Thursday

The Endless
~Timothy Donnelly

I saw a yellow butterfly
in my opinion
the wrong way, flying across
the sound
to Connecticut

I saw a cormorant
close to the sea’s surface
as I floated on it on

my back in
the attitude of the crucifixion
minerals in my body
conversation with
the minerals of the sea

about the sun
how can I possibly
to what’s already been said
so well
by the ancients

and said with
an austerity I’ll never
it is an honor to take
a backseat to the ancients
who knew how

I was a fat white fish
under the sold-out stadium sun
like a god
but like a god
I could live through anything.

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Poetry Thursday, it is all about love

Love is cure. 
Love is power. 
Love is the magic 
of changes. 
Love is the mirror 
of divine beauty.
~ Rumi

Thursday, September 07, 2017

Poetry Thursday, meditation

~Carl Sandburg

The shadows of the ships
Rock on the crest
In the low blue lustre
Of the tardy and the soft inrolling tide.

A long brown bar at the dip of the sky
Puts an arm of sand in the span of salt.

The lucid and endless wrinkles
Draw in, lapse and withdraw.
Wavelets crumble and white spent bubbles
Wash on the floor of the beach.

             Rocking on the crest
             In the low blue lustre
             Are the shadows of the ships.

Thursday, August 31, 2017

Poetry Thursday, careful reminder

If you care 
about what others 
think of you, 
then you will 
always be their 
~ L. Tzu

Thursday, August 24, 2017

Poetry Thursday, hummingbirds and souls

~Robin Becker

I love the whir of the creature come
to visit the pink
flowers in the hanging basket as she does

most August mornings, hours away
from starvation to store
enough energy to survive overnight.

The Aztecs saw the refraction
of incident light on wings
as resurrection of fallen warriors.

In autumn, when daylight decreases
they double their body weight to survive
the flight across the Gulf of Mexico.

On next-to-nothing my mother
flew for 85 years; after her death
she hovered, a bird of bones and air.

Copyright © 2017 Robin Becker. Used with permission of the author.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Poetry Thursday

Things I Will Tell My Children About Destiny 
~Cynthia Manick

                          You remind them
             of weighted tumbleweeds,
hen-egg brown. Don’t let
                           them take the rag-
             time beneath your skin.
        It stirs earth’s curvature
and a choir
of frogs
when you enter
             or leave a room. Don’t
             leave a swallow of juice
                    or milk in the fridge.
A body grieved
is a whole new body.
             Give your shadow a name
                          big as a star, see
              yourself out loud.
Pick wild irises                          the best gifts
              roll under a ribcage, leave
              open mouths splendid.
I like your smile unpenned.

Keep your bird-
              song close, imagine
                     an hourglass full
                         of architects and dreamers,
the first taste of fresh
              scooped ice cream.
                         You will learn to master
                         camouflage among ordinary things—
            men who spill words
not thoughts, trigger fingers
                           to brand loose.
I love your smile unpenned.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Poetry Thursday, Remembering Ben

Your heart 
my heart 
are very, very 
old friends. 
~ Sufi Saying

Thursday, August 03, 2017

Poetry Thursday - late entry

~Helen Hunt Jackson

Silence again. The glorious symphony
Hath need of pause and interval of peace.
Some subtle signal bids all sweet sounds cease,
Save hum of insects’ aimless industry.
Pathetic summer seeks by blazonry
Of color to conceal her swift decrease.
Weak subterfuge! Each mocking day doth fleece
A blossom, and lay bare her poverty.
Poor middle-agèd summer! Vain this show!
Whole fields of golden-rod cannot offset
One meadow with a single violet;
And well the singing thrush and lily know,
Spite of all artifice which her regret
Can deck in splendid guise, their time to go!

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Poetry Thursday

All the awakened ones, 
like trusted midwives, 
are saying, 
welcome this pain, 
it opens the dark passage 
of Grace. 

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Poetry Thursday

In the Street
 ~Mary Jo Bang
Here we are, on top of the utopian arc. The water is shallow. An oil spill shimmers on the surface like a lens catches light and folds it in front of a mirror. If someone stands next to you, they are there, even when outside the picture. Which makes total obscurity relative to luck and such. Unlike the law, architecture lasts. A façade, like an ideal, can be oppressive unless balanced by a balcony on which you can stand and call down to those in the street, Come over here and look up at us. Aren’t we exactly what you wanted to believe in?

Monday, July 17, 2017

US Travel goals

These those places in grey -- those are the states I still need to visit.
Create Your Own Visited States Map

Life goals

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Getting back into it ... Poetry Thursday

Remember you are braver than you believe
Stronger than you seem
Smarter than you think
And twice as beautiful as you'd ever imagined.
~ Rumi

Thursday, June 29, 2017

so...this is late, but Poetry Thursday

Sonnet V
~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
And, looking in thine eyes, I overturn
The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
Through the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scorn
Could tread them out to darkness utterly,
It might be well perhaps. But if instead
Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow
The grey dust up….—those laurels on thine head
O my belovèd, will not shield thee so.
That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred
The hair beneath. Stand further off then! go.