World Poem Day -- Post Some Verse

[telenous]

World photo day today. Please post a poem or a few verses that you really like or that has attracted your attention lately.



Travelling through the dark,
William Stafford

Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
she had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.

My fingers touching her side brought me the reason--
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born.
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.

I thought hard for us all--my only swerving--,
then pushed her over the edge into the river.

(William Stafford, "Travelling through the dark", from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems)

.

 

[Steve M.]

This is a great idea. Poetry is visual, and simply uses the mind rather than the eye.

Not really a poem, but a bit of wisdom from one of my favorite poets:

"Modern art is what happens when painters stop looking at girls and persuade themselves that they have a better idea". Italian American poet John Ciardi. 1916-1986

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

300 Goats

"In icy fields.

Is water flowing in the tank?"

Naomi Shihab Nye. 1952 -

 

[dave lackey]

Alkis,

Great thread. In my writings, I have written poetry as a means of coping over the last decade. They are too personal for me to post here. So I won't but I will say that I am overwhelmed with poetry lately. Not so much in my younger days...

A few months ago, my sister gave me a most wonderful gift. She gave me a box of notebooks of hand-written poems, hundreds of them written during her recovery from a serious illness during the time between 1965 and 1970. Since then, I have started a catalog of all her poems, and I wrote and published a book with a story centered around a simple playful poem that my mother write to her first-born granddaughter... my niece. It was a profound experience.

Even more so, I will publish her manuscripts in book form for my family members. I know that my mother always dreamed of having hers published but she was content to give them to friends and have them posted in her church bulletin each Sunday.

Poems are truly the voice of the soul.
🙂

 

[Bar8barian]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

[Ko.Fe.]

World Poem Day is stupid.
My poet brain is whooped.

 

[Charlie Lemay]

Slide Show

The slides transition abruptly.
The dark space between them is barely registered.
It is something to be avoided at all cost.
The distraction of images confirms
the illusion of continuity that is always preferred.
And yet, we can’t escape the call of the darkness,
the perfect mirror we have been told to ignore.
It beckons ever stronger in each of the fleeting moments
between the approved images.

What will happen if we dare get off the script?
What will we learn about ourselves
that those around us feel so threatened by?
Will we see our own reflection,
or will see the reflection of some other thing entirely
that we have been masquerading as all along?

There is no way of knowing without taking a look,
And one cannot look without being transformed.
The transition is always abrupt,
just like the transition between the approved images.
Only now, there will be no need for anyone’s approval.

© 2016 Charlie Lemay
Image: Belly © 2915 Charlie Lemay


I started writing poetry again last year in a workshop with Poet/photographer Susan Currie. You can read more in the Verse + Images section of my website www.charlielemay.net. The image here is a different one than you will see on the website. I swapped the image on this one, because I will be compiling a book of verse later this year and the image on my website will appear in my forthcoming book, Enchanted Forest, which I had not anticipated and would prefer not to repeat an image.

 

[Joao]

Allow me some irony..

Allow me some irony..

PAY-BACK TIME by Roger McGough

O Lord, let me be a burden on my children
For long they've been a burden upon me.
May they fetch and carry, clean and scrub
And do so cheerfully.

Let them take it in turns at putting me up
Nice sunny rooms at the top of the stairs
With a walk-in bath and lift installed
At great expense.....Theirs.

Insurance against the body-blows of time
Isn't that what having children's all about?
To bring them up knowing that they owe you
And can't contract out?

What is money for but to spend on their schooling?
Designer clothes, mindless hobbies, usual stuff.
Then as soon as they're earning, off they go
Well, enough's enough.

It's been a blessing watching them develop
The parental pride we felt as each one grew.
But Lord, let me be a burden on my children
And on my children's children too.