The Poetry Playground

On Days Like This
On days like this . . .
Before the dawn ever happens
when the sky is still dark
and the morning star bright. It is
on days like this . . .
When the last of the night spills
into the ravine.
When my mind is filled with the
thoughts of smooth stones.
It is on days like this . . .
When the garden is damp
And the wind
still trapped
inside my ear.
And I find the same pebble twice
when my pocket it full
it is on days like this . . .
It is on days exactly like this . . .

~ Das Lanzillotti

Everyone Sang

Everyone suddenly burst out singing;
And I was filled with such delight
As prisoned birds must find in freedom,
Winging wildly across the white
Orchards and dark-green fields; on – on – and out of sight.

Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted;
And beauty came like the setting sun:
My heart was shaken with tears; and horror
Drifted away . . . O, but Everyone
Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.

~ Siegfried Sasson

Looking at the Sea
I have today and tomorrow,
I hear amplified voices,
The sun shines, the arbor
Shades, and people talk.

Actors write, writers act,
It can be the same or not,
And criticism can be praise,
But love can only be love.

Mysticism is obfuscation,
She explains to anyone,
The sea is salty, you taste
Your mouth and hurt feet.

Now it is the sunset they
Have come to see. Islands
Lying on the horizon.
We have today and tomorrow.

~ Vincent Katz

Before

No shoes and a glossy
red helmet, I rode
on the back of my dad’s
Harley at seven years old.
Before the divorce.
Before the new apartment.
Before the new marriage.
Before the apple tree.
Before the ceramics in the garbage.
Before the dog’s chain.
Before the koi were all eaten
by the crane. Before the road
between us, there was the road
beneath us, and I was just
big enough not to let go:
Henno Road, creek just below,
rough wind, chicken legs,
and I never knew survival
was like that. If you live,
you look back and beg
for it again, the hazardous
bliss before you know
what you would miss.

~ Ada Limon

Summons

Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see. Talk to me till
I’m half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why
I ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I’m not too hard persuaded.

~ Robert Francis

Your Catfish Friend

If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, “It’s beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
somebody loved me,”
I’d love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, “I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It sees like
a perfect place for them.”
~ Richard Brautigan

I Meant to Do My Work Today

I meant to do my work today –
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand –
So what could I do but laugh and go?

 
~ Richard LeGallienne

When Will I Be Home?

When will I be home? I don’t know.
In the mountains, in the rainy night,
The Autumn lake is flooded.
Someday we will be back together again.
We will sit in the candlelight by the West window.
And I will tell you how I remembered you
Tonight on the stormy mountain.

Li Shang-Yin