Tag Archive: english poem

Only Breath

mevlana-cizim

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu
Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion

or cultural system. I am not from the East
or the West, not out of the ocean or up Devamını Oku

The Marriage of the Soul (from The Secret Rose Garden)

Mahmud-Shabistari

 

Descending to the earth, that strange intoxicating beauty of the unseen world
lurks in the elements of nature.

Devamını Oku

Marriage / by William Carlos Williams

 w-carlos-william

So different, this man

And this woman:

A stream flowing

In a field. Devamını Oku

May the light of your soul guide you / By John O’Donohue

John-O'Donohue

 

May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work
You do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul. Devamını Oku

Self-Portrait in a Wire Jacket / by Monica Youn

Monica-Youn

To section off
is to intensify,

to deaden.
Some surfaces

cannot be salvaged.
Leave them

to lose function,
to persist only
Devamını Oku

It was a hard thing to undo this knot / by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Gerard-Manley-Hopkins

It was a hard thing to undo this knot.

The rainbow shines, but only in the thought

Of him that looks. Yet not in that alone,

For who makes rainbows by invention?  Devamını Oku

from Please Bury Me in This / by Allison Benis White

Allison-Benis-White

Maybe my arms lifted as a woman lowers a dress over my head.

This is not what I want to tell you.

Devamını Oku

Excelsior / by Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

Who has gone farthest? for I would go farther,
And who has been just? for I would be the most just person of the Devamını Oku

Getting Close / by Victoria Redel

Victoria-Redel
Because my mother loved pocketbooks

I come alive at the opening click or close of a metal clasp. Devamını Oku

Permanence / by Denise Duhamel

Denise-Duhamel

The barista at the coffee shop is covered in tattoos. She says there are only two ways they hold her back. 1. She can’t work at Starbucks. 2. She can’t wear a corsage, since she’d just be way too busy, and this makes me laugh. She says no to gifts from prom dates–the wrist corsage, the pinned corsage; no to bridal bouquets, the get-well-soon carnations. One day soon her mother will insist on sympathy wreaths around her coffin, which is closed, lest she be confused with the flowers. Devamını Oku

Summer in the South / by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The oriole sings in the greening grove

As if he were half-way waiting,

The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,

Timid and hesitating.  Devamını Oku

Remorse / by Carl Sandburg

Carl-Sandburg

 The horse’s name was Remorse.

There were people said, “Gee, what a nag!”
And they were Edgar Allan Poe bugs and so
They called him Remorse. Devamını Oku

They Romp with Wooly Canines / by Patricia Smith

patricia-smith
and spy whole lifetimes on the undersides of leaves.
Jazz intrudes, stank clogging that neat procession
of lush and flutter. His eyes, siphoned and dimming,
demand that he accept ardor as it is presented, with
its tear-splashed borders and stilted lists, romance
that is only on the agenda because hours do not stop. Devamını Oku

Living in Numbers / by Claire Lee

Claire-Lee

Sunday, August 22, 2010:

Number of times I’ve woken up after

oversleeping and sprung out of bed like a ninja: 959

Number of broken bones: 3

Number of scars, physical: 4; emotional: 947

Number of funerals attended: 7

Number of friends, Facebook: 744, real: 9

Number of cavities filled: 0 Devamını Oku

Compassion IV / by Noelle Kocot

Noelle-Kocot

The human realities of the living are now
As close to me as my own–oh, see how
Dusty that plant gets when you don’t clean
It! The rippling day is a fabulous lesson,
My pants are too loose, and yet. Bon nuit,
Mes chéries! All over the whole neighbor-
Hood, your fluid legs move–you are all  Devamını Oku

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