(at St. Mary’s)
may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that
~ Lucille Clifton
If a life needn’t be useful to be meaningful,
Then maybe a life of sunbathing on a beach
Can be thought of as meaningful for at least a few,
The few, say, who view the sun as a god
And consider basking a form of worship.
As for those devoted to partnership with a surfboard
Or a pair of ice skates or a bag of golf clubs,
Though I can’t argue their lives are useful,
I’d be reluctant to claim they have no meaning
Even if no one observes their display of mastery.
No one is listening to the librarian
I can call to mind as she practices, after work,
In her flat on Hoover Street, the viola da gamba
In the one hour of day that for her is golden.
So what if she’ll never be good enough
To give a concert people will pay to hear?
When I need to think of her with an audience,
I can imagine the ghosts of composers dead for centuries,
Pleased to hear her doing her best with their music.
And isn’t it pleasing, as we walk at dusk to our cars
Parked on Hoover Street, after a meeting
On saving a shuttered hotel from the wrecking ball,
To catch the sound of someone filling a room
We won’t be visiting with a haunting solo?
And then the gifts we receive by imagining
How down at the beach today surfers made sure
The big waves we weren’t there to appreciate
Didn’t go begging for attention.
And think of the sunlight we failed to welcome,
How others stepped forward to take it in.
~ Carl Dennis
Just a reminder that this Thursday, April 21st is National Poem in Your Pocket Day!! Wahoo! Originally initiating in 2002 in NYC, it went national in 2008 and we've been celebrating it here ever since!
Don’t forget to carry a poem in your pocket and don’t forget to share it with me, your favorite poetry pimp!
Also, if you are celebrating it out there in your communities or classrooms I would love to hear about it!
Dear, did we meet in some dim yesterday?
I half remember how the birds were mute
Among green leaves and tulip-tinted fruit,
And on the grass, beside a stream, we lay
In early twilight; faintly, far away,
Came lovely sounds adrift from silver lute,
With answered echoes of an airy flute,
While Twilight waited tiptoe, fain to stay.
Her violet eyes were sweet with mystery.
You looked in mine, the music rose and fell
Like little, lisping laughter of the sea;
Our souls were barks, wind-wafted from the shore-
Gold cup, a rose, a ruby, who can tell?
Soft – music ceases – I recall no more.
~ Helen Hay Whitney
i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky: and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any – lifted from the no
of all nothing – human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
~ e.e. cummings
http://www.signature-reads.com/2016/04/dash-against-darkness-10-quotes-celebrating-national-poetry-month/
As your Friday bonus please enjoy these quotes celebrating National Poetry Month!
Have a great weekend everyone!
There was a young fellow from Boise
Had a very inflated libido. When a couple of Finns
http://cnyarts.org/view/7505/dwc-visiting-author-readings-poet-john-hoppenthaler
Friday, April 15th from 7- 9 pm at the downtown YMCA
Reading by poet John Hoppenthaler. Check the link for more info!
The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low:
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand.
The a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through joys and fears,
Than the two hears beating each to each!
~ Robert Browning
With fruit and flowers the board is decked,
The wine and laughter flow;
I’ll not complain — could one expect
So dull a world to know?
You look across the fruit and flowers,
My glance your glances find. —
It is our secret, only ours,
Since all the world is blind.
~ Amy Levy
