A Poem A Day

[BigBlot]

On 4/29/2021 at 11:26 AM, brokenclay said:

@jandrew, @lauriond, thank you for these poems! Both lovely and thought-provoking.

Here lies Lester Moore

Four slugs from a .44

No Les, no more.

 

- From a grave marker at Boothill, Tombstone, Arizona.

[inkstainedruth]

Read that one to my husband and he said "That deserves another one...."

Q: What do you call a chicken trying to cross the road?
A: Poultry in motion....

 

Ruth Morrisson aka inkstainedruth

[BigBlot]

A Little Macabre Ditty

 

"A sickly season," the merchant said,
"The town I left was filled with dead,
and everywhere these queer red flies
crawled upon the corpses' eyes,
eating them away."

"Fair make you sick," the merchant said,
"They crawled upon the wine and bread.
Pale priests with oil and books,
bulging eyes and crazy looks,
dropping like the flies."

 

"I had to laugh," the merchant said,
"The doctors purged, and dosed, and bled;
"And proved through solemn disputation
"The cause lay in some constellation.
"Then they began to die."

 

"First they sneezed," the merchant said,
"And then they turned the brightest red,
Begged for water, then fell back.
With bulging eyes and face turned black,
they waited for the flies."

 

"I came away," the merchant said,
"You can't do business with the dead.
"So I've come here to ply my trade.
"You'll find this to be a fine brocade..."

 

And then he sneezed.

 

- Author unknown.

[brokenclay]

 

Bank Twenty-Five

by Laura Sims

 

It's something—

 

Your body, my car

 

Laid down in a tunnel of noise

For a reason

 

 

The white

Half-

Hour

[willl]

Today, Wednesday

Too much work to do today

I should not be here

 

[brokenclay]

 

The Matrix

by Amy Lowell

 

Goaded and harassed in the factory

   That tears our life up into bits of days

   Ticked off upon a clock which never stays,

Shredding our portion of Eternity,

We break away at last, and steal the key

   Which hides a world empty of hours; ways

   Of space unroll, and Heaven overlays

The leafy, sun-lit earth of Fantasy.

   Beyond the ilex shadow glares the sun,

   Scorching against the blue flame of the sky.

Brown lily-pads lie heavy and supine

   Within a granite basin, under one

   The bronze-gold glimmer of a carp; and I

Reach out my hand and pluck a nectarine.

[brokenclay]

 

Roll on, sad world!

by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman

 

from Sonnets, Second Series

 

XVII

 

Roll on, sad world! not Mercury or Mars

Could swifter speed, or slower, round the sun,

Than in this year of variance thou hast done

For me. Yet pain, fear, heart-break, woes, and wars

Have natural limit; from his dread eclipse

The swift sun hastens, and the night debars

The day, but to bring in the day more bright;

The flowers renew their odorous fellowships;

The moon runs round and round; the slow earth dips,

True to her poise, and lifts; the planet-stars

Roll and return from circle to ellipse;

The day is dull and soft, the eave-trough drips;

And yet I know the splendor of the light

Will break anon: look! where the gray is white!

[GlenV]

Another one not recalling author:(

[brokenclay]

Lovely, and lovely handwriting!

 

 

The Swan

by Mary Oliver

 

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?

Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air -

An armful of white blossoms,

A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned

into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,

Biting the air with its black beak?

Did you hear it, fluting and whistling

A shrill dark music– like the rain pelting the trees– like a waterfall

Knifing down the black ledges?

And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -

A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet

Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?

And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?

And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?

And have you changed your life?

 

[GlenV]

Nice, one excerpt from Wordsworth:

[willl]

 

I clearly need more practice writing than is offered by writing the errant haiku...

 

Happy Friday!

[PuliMorgan]

This thread inspired me to start a new "Quote a Day" thread. My objective there is to track the improvement of my rediscovered cursive hand over time.

 

Thank you BrokenClay for the idea and for the inspiration.

[brokenclay]

That's awesome! Looking forward to your quotes (and adding some of my own, perhaps?).

 

And here is @PuliMorgan's thread: 

 

 

[PuliMorgan]

24 minutes ago, brokenclay said:

That's awesome! Looking forward to your quotes (and adding some of my own, perhaps?).

 

And here is @PuliMorgan's thread: 

 

 

Sure @brokenclay, you are most welcome to contribute in my thread, Thank you...

[brokenclay]

 

Moonrise

by H.D.

 

Will you glimmer on the sea?

Will you fling your spear-head

on the shore?

What note shall we pitch?

 

We have a song,

on the bank we share our arrows—

the loosed string tells our note:

 

Oh flight,

bring her swiftly to our song.

She is great,

We measure her by the pine-trees.

[PuliMorgan]

Uncommitted Death, Author Unknown.

 

Found at silenceisbeauty.com

[brokenclay]

 

Empty-handed I entered the world

Barefoot I leave it.

My coming, my going,

two simple happenings that got entangled.

 

Kozan Ichikyo

1283-1360

 

With thanks and respect to @Doulton

[brokenclay]

Some light Georgian satire in an attempt to wring the last drops from a cartridge of (I think) Diamine Maroon.

 

 

Farewell to Bath

by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu

 

To all you ladies now at Bath,

And eke, ye beaux, to you,

With aching heart, and wat'ry eyes,

I bid my last adieu.

 

Farewell ye nymphs, who waters sip

Hot reeking from the pumps,

While music lends her friendly aid,

To cheer you from the dumps.

 

Farewell ye wits, who prating stand,

And criticise the fair;

Yourselves the joke of men of sense,

Who hate a coxcomb's air.

 

Farewell to Deard's, and all her toys,

Which glitter in her shop,

Deluding traps to girls and boys,

The warehouse of the fop.

 

Lindsay's and Hayes's both farewell,

Where in the spacious hall,

With bounding steps, and sprightly air,

I've led up many a ball.

 

Where Somerville of courteous mien,

Was partner in the dance,

With swimming Haws, and Brownlow blithe,

And Britton pink of France.

 

Poor Nash, farewell! may fortune smile,

Thy drooping soul revive,

My heart is full I can no more—

John, bid the coachman drive.

[brokenclay]

I was absurdly pleased to find this poem. We lived in Nigeria when I was little, and had banana trees (small ones, maybe 2-3 meters tall?) in the back garden. The leaves were an endless source of play material, to my mother's chagrin.

 

 

Banana Trees

by Joseph Stanton

 

They are tall herbs, really, not trees, 

though they can shoot up thirty feet 

if all goes well for them. Cut in cross 

 

section they look like gigantic onions, 

multi-layered mysteries with ghostly hearts. 

Their leaves are made to be broken by the wind, 

 

if wind there be, but the crosswise tears 

they are built to expect do them no harm. 

Around the steady staff of the leafstalk 

 

the broken fronds flap in the breeze 

like brief forgotten flags, but these 

tattered, green, photosynthetic machines 

 

know how to grasp with their broken fingers 

the gold coins of light that give open air 

its shine. In hot, dry weather the fingers 

 

fold down to touch on each side-- 

a kind of prayer to clasp what damp they can 

against the too much light. 

[brokenclay]

 

Remember

by Christina Rossetti

 

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.