Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
|(Credit: Ohio Wesleyan U., Bayley Collection)|
Of Equality--as if it harm'd me, giving others
the same chances and rights as myself--
as if it were not indispensable to my own
rights that others possess the same.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
A few weeks ago I read a poem in Ted Kooser's column. I liked the poem so much I looked up the poet, Amy Fleury, and bought her latest book, Sympathetic Magic. Every single poem is incredibly good. Seriously. I don't remember the last time I read a collection of poetry that didn't have even one weak poem. Here is one of my favorites:
When at Last I Join
When at last I join the democracy of dirt,
a tussock earthed over and grass healed,
I'll gladly conspire in my own diminishment.
Let a pink peony bloom from my chest
and may it be visited by a charm of bees,
who will then carry the talcum of pollen
and nectar of clover to the grove where they hive.
Let the honey they make be broken
from comb, and release from its golden hold,
onto some animal tongue, my soul.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
There would be no blazing colors,
no deafening fireworks,
no boisterous milling crowds
Only you and me
in a darkened room.
Only the electric touch
of your body and mine.
Congrats to Abhra Pal on the occassion of his first dVerse hosting! Abhra, using the joyous Hindu festival of Holi as inspiration, invites us to consider the combination of color and love. Contrarian that I am, I went colorless. Kind of.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Friday, March 21, 2014
I will make the poems of materials, for I think they
are to be the most spiritual poems,
And I will make the poems
of my body and of mortality,
For I think I shall then supply myself with the poems
of my soul and of immmortality.
from "Starting from Paumanok"