Click Banner For More Info See All Sponsors

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish!

This site is now closed permanently to new posts.
We recommend you use the new Townsy Cafe!

Click anywhere but the link to dismiss overlay!

Page 92 of 162 FirstFirst ... 42 82 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 102 142 ... LastLast
Results 2,731 to 2,760 of 4857

  • Share this thread on:
  • Follow: No Email   
  • Thread Tools
  1. TopTop #2731
    gardenmaniac's Avatar
    gardenmaniac
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    thanks, Larry; this lovely image is a stark contrast to the storms we face today ...

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    Malheur Before Dawn
    ...
    Then the sun began to shout from below the horizon.
    Throngs of birds campaigned, their music a tent of sound.
    ...
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  2. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  3. TopTop #2732
    Sara S's Avatar
    Sara S
    Auntie Wacco

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    It's so nice to hear my local frogs singing their national anthem.....

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by gardenmaniac: View Post
    thanks, Larry; this lovely image is a stark contrast to the storms we face today ...
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  4. Gratitude expressed by:

  5. TopTop #2733
    Ronaldo's Avatar
    Ronaldo
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Name:  Before-Dawn_Poem.jpg
Views: 1180
Size:  121.3 KB

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by gardenmaniac: View Post
    thanks, Larry; this lovely image is sharp contrast to these dark and stormy days
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  6. Gratitude expressed by 5 members:

  7. TopTop #2734
    Dorothy Friberg's Avatar
    Dorothy Friberg
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    You want to hear frogs singing their national anthem, visit the upper levels of Graton Casino"s parking structure at sunset. The concert there is angelic. There used to be a bullfrog farm nearby in times past. Don't know if their decendents are still singing.

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    Malheur Before Dawn
    ...
    Frogs discovered their national anthem again.
    I didn’t know a ditch could hold so much joy.
    ...
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  8. Gratitude expressed by:

  9. TopTop #2735
    rbloom's Avatar
    rbloom
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    Malheur Before Dawn
    ...
    A Northern Harrier at Malheur Wildlife Refuge, a national treasure that few know about.

    Name:  Northern Harrier in flight.jpg
Views: 1067
Size:  46.5 KB
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  10. TopTop #2736
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Becoming Old


    Like leaves in autumn

    Alexandra Hart

    The days fall off the tree of my life.
    Bright, some — dull-colored, others,
    Which makes the brilliants shine.

    All precious, gathering speed,
    While I valiantly try to slow,
    Never quite fast enough,
    Never quite succeeding.

    One day, closer, closer, my tree
    Will be bare, the branches bony,
    No longer dressed in anything
    But the memories of my folly,
    And those few bright moments that
    Make it all worthwhile.

    - Alexandra Hart
    Last edited by Barry; 01-07-2016 at 01:25 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  11. TopTop #2737

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    thank you!
    complements my experience just a moment ago when I was in our parking area, looking at a bare maple (gum) tree. (Parenthetically, then I noticed its sister, same variety of maple and similar size, just 100 feet or so across the way, still almost completely clothed in many-colored leaves.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  12. TopTop #2738
    Ronaldo's Avatar
    Ronaldo
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Name:  Becoming-Old.jpg
Views: 1166
Size:  113.7 KB

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    Becoming Old


    Like leaves in autumn
    The days fall off the tree of my life.
    Bright, some — dull-colored, others,
    Which makes the brilliants shine.

    All precious, gathering speed,
    While I valiantly try to slow,
    Never quite fast enough,
    Never quite succeeding.

    One day, closer, closer, my tree
    Will be bare, the branches bony,
    No longer dressed in anything
    But the memories of my folly,
    And those few bright moments that
    Make it all worthwhile.

    - Alexandra Hart
    Attached Thumbnails (click thumbnail for larger view) Attached Thumbnails (click thumbnail for larger view) Expand  
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  13. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  14. TopTop #2739
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Catholicism


    There’s a possum who appears here at odd times,
    often walking up the path to the house
    in the middle of the day like a little ghost
    with a long tail and a blank expression on his face.

    He likes to slip behind the woodpile,
    but sometimes he gets so close to the window
    where I am standing with a glass in my hand
    that I start to review my sins, systematically

    going from one commandment to the next.
    What is it about him that causes me
    to begin an examination of conscience,
    calling to mind my failings in this time of reflection?

    It could just be the twitching of the tail
    and that white face, but his slow priestly pace
    also makes a contribution, as do the tiny paws,
    more like hands, really, with opposable thumbs

    able to carry a nut or dig a hole in the earth
    or lift a chalice above his head
    or even deliver a document,
    I am thinking as he nears the back door,

    not merely a subpoena but an order
    of excommunication with my name and a date
    written in fine Italian ink
    and signed with a flourish of the papal sash.

    - Billy Collins
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  15. Gratitude expressed by 6 members:

  16. TopTop #2740

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    I've seen that possum! And his excommunication document with my name on it! But it wouldn't have reached my conscious awareness without your original vision, Billy Collins. Thank you, Larry R. and Billy C.

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    There’s a possum who appears here at odd times,
    ...
    Last edited by Barry; 01-08-2016 at 04:02 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  17. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

  18. TopTop #2741
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Monarch




    yellow black stripedtiger worm

    spits spider glue on
    milkweed
    then swings ass

    to mouth to close
    in on itself

    waiting for glory
    or just hangs

    half
    finished like the
    rest of us.

    - Richard Retecki
    Last edited by Barry; 01-09-2016 at 01:44 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  19. Gratitude expressed by 4 members:

  20. TopTop #2742
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    To Be a Slave of Intensity


    Friend, hope for the Guest while you are alive.
    Jump into experience while you are alive!
    Think. . .and think. . .while you are alive.
    What you call “salvation’ belongs to the time before death.

    If you don’t break your ropes while you’re alive,
    do you think
    ghosts will do it after?

    The idea that the soul will join with the ecstatic
    just because the body is rotten--
    that is all fantasy.
    What is found now is found then.
    If you find nothing now,
    you will simply end up with an apartment in the City of
    Death.
    If you make love with the divine now, in the next life you
    will have the face of satisfied desire.

    So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,
    Believe in the Great Sound!

    Kabir says this: When the Guest is being searched for,
    it is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that
    does all the work.
    Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.


    - Kabir
    (version by Robert Bly)
    Last edited by Bella Stolz; 01-11-2016 at 12:50 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  21. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

  22. TopTop #2743
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Black Boys Play The Classics

    The most popular "act" in
    Penn Station
    is the three black kids in ratty
    sneakers & T-shirts playing
    two violins and a cello—Brahms.
    White men in business suits
    have already dug into their pockets
    as they pass and they toss in
    a dollar or two without stopping.
    Brown men in work-soiled khakis
    stand with their mouths open,
    arms crossed on their bellies
    as if they themselves have always
    wanted to attempt those bars.
    One white boy, three, sits
    cross-legged in front of his
    idols—in ecstasy—
    their slick, dark faces,
    their thin, wiry arms,
    who must begin to look
    like angels!
    Why does this trembling
    pull us?
    A: Beneath the surface we are one.
    B: Amazing! I did not think that they could speak this tongue.

    - Toi Derricotte
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  23. Gratitude expressed by 6 members:

  24. TopTop #2744
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Definition of the Frontiers

    First there is the wind but not like the familiar wind but long and without lapses or falling away or surges of air as is usual but rather like the persistent pressure of a river or a running tide.

    This wind is from the other side and has an odor unlike the odor of the winds with us but like time if time had odor and were cold and carried a bitter and sharp taste like rust on the taste of snow or the fragrance of thunder.

    When the air has this taste of time the frontiers are not far from us.

    Then too there are the animals. There are always animals under the small trees. They belong neither to our side nor to theirs but are wild and because they are animals of such kind that wildness is unfamiliar in them as the horse for example or the goat and often sheep and dogs and like creatures their wandering there is strange and even terrifying signaling as it does the violation of custom and the subversion of order.

    There are also the unnatural lovers the distortion of images the penetration of mirrors and the inarticulate meanings of the dreams. The dreams are in turmoil like a squall of birds.

    Finally there is the evasion of those with whom we have come. It is at the frontiers that the companions desert us—that the girl returns to the old country

    that we are alone.


    - Archibald McLeish
    Last edited by Bella Stolz; 01-13-2016 at 12:52 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  25. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  26. TopTop #2745
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    For the New Year, 1981


    I have a small grain of hope—
    one small crystal that gleams
    clear colors out of transparency.
    I need more.
    I break off a fragment
    to send you.
    Please take
    this grain of a grain of hope
    so that mine won’t shrink.
    Please share your fragment
    so that yours will grow.
    Only so, by division,
    will hope increase,
    like a clump of irises, which will cease to flower
    unless you distribute
    the clustered roots, unlikely source—
    clumsy and earth-covered—
    of grace.


    - Denise Levertov
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  27. Gratitude expressed by 5 members:

  28. TopTop #2746
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Dear Ashraf Fayadh,

    Outside my window men speak

    in a tongue I do not completely
    understand. These are the men
    who work the soil, the vineyards,
    who pray to another god and the
    god’s mother, who sing you are
    never alone. We are all orphans
    searching for light, harmony lost
    to the stark meaning of man-made
    laws. In our hearts, the poem of
    Love is perfected, is the most holy
    relic of Time. Dear Ashraf Fayadh,
    may you live happily among the
    living, neither lashed nor beheaded,
    on little islands of wonder, feeling
    for all the gods what they are
    incapable of feeling, each word,
    each brush stroke, a golden bee
    bathed in the breath of heaven.


    - Katherine Hastings

    Note: Ashraf Fayadh is a Saudia Arabian artist and poet who has been sentenced to death, accused of promoting atheism in his 2008 book of poems Instructions Within.
    Last edited by Barry; 01-15-2016 at 02:22 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  29. Gratitude expressed by 4 members:

  30. TopTop #2747
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    I would I might Forget that I am I

    Sonnet VII
    I would I might forget that I am I,
    And break the heavy chain that binds me fast,
    Whose links about myself my deeds have cast.
    What in the body’s tomb doth buried lie
    Is boundless; ’tis the spirit of the sky,
    Lord of the future, guardian of the past,
    And soon must forth, to know his own at last.
    In his large life to live, I fain would die.
    Happy the dumb beast, hungering for food,
    But calling not his suffering his own;
    Blessèd the angel, gazing on all good,
    But knowing not he sits upon a throne;
    Wretched the mortal, pondering his mood,
    And doomed to know his aching heart alone


    - George Santayana
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  31. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

  32. TopTop #2748
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Prayer
    I want a god
    as my accomplice
    who spends nights
    in houses
    of ill repute
    and gets up late
    on Saturdays

    a god
    who whistles
    through the streets
    and trembles
    before the lips
    of his lover

    a god
    who waits in line
    at the entrance
    of movie houses
    and likes to drink
    café au lait

    a god
    who spits
    blood from
    tuberculosis and
    doesn’t even have
    enough for bus fare

    a god
    knocked
    unconscious
    by the billy club
    of a policeman
    at a demonstration

    a god
    who pisses
    out of fear
    before the flaring
    electrodes
    of torture

    a god
    who hurts
    to the last
    bone and
    bites the air
    in pain

    a jobless god
    a striking god
    a hungry god
    a fugitive god
    an exiled god
    an enraged god

    a god
    who longs
    from jail
    for a change
    in the order
    of things

    I want a
    more godlike
    god

    - Francisco X. Alarcon
    February 21, 1954-January 15, 2016
    (Translation by Francisco Aragon)
    Last edited by Barry; 01-17-2016 at 04:48 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  33. Gratitude expressed by 6 members:

  34. TopTop #2749
    Roland Jacopetti's Avatar
    Roland Jacopetti
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Fantastic, Larry! I want a god I can thank for creating you to show us this poem. You and Francisco X. Alarcon!

    Roland

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    Prayer
    I want a god
    as my accomplice...
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  35. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  36. TopTop #2750
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Coretta Scott King

    Watching her funeral on TV, 2006

    four tall white men

    southerners all
    presidents all
    bush carter clinton bush
    stand together today
    in a congregation of accolades
    to honor a small black woman
    sweet soprano voice of peace
    silenced finally
    resting beneath a mound of
    scarlet roses sun-yellow lilies
    bright and passionate as her courage

    no mere appendage
    to her towering royal mate
    she rose from his ashes
    spoke with steely purpose
    for the softest of virtues
    endured assaults
    of spiked and forked tongues
    hearth-destroying bombs
    to raise to dignity
    the petty lives of garbage collectors
    the poverty-enveloped
    the forgotten children
    the unjustly deprived

    without bomb or tank she moved nations
    lacking armor she prevailed
    her only uniform the light of care
    her only bugle the call for peace

    she stood in silence
    walked in grace

    for you, now, sister in peace,
    we stand in the fist of silence
    walk in hope of grace

    - Vilma Olivary Ginzberg
    Last edited by Barry; 01-18-2016 at 12:50 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  37. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

  38. TopTop #2751
    gardenmaniac's Avatar
    gardenmaniac
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    thanks for remembering Mrs. King with such eloquence, Larry

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    Coretta Scott King

    Watching her funeral on TV, 2006

    four tall white men
    ...
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  39. TopTop #2752
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    God Does Not Answer Prayer

    God does not answer prayer.
    It is a sacrilege to think so.
    An insult to the god-drenched hearts
    of all who pray through the night
    and in the morning are nonetheless
    handed a dead child.

    The churches in Salem used to burn heretics
    to increase attendance. Now those who feel
    their prayer didn't reach quite far enough,
    that they were not pure enough,
    are victims of a merciless atheism
    that says all good fortune comes from God
    though the brutal often prosper
    and it is not uncommon to torture
    the pure of heart.

    We pray for the best, forgetting
    the unpredictable unfolding
    that must occur for us to learn
    prayer for others works better
    than for ourselves. Jesus prays
    in the garden of Gethsemane
    and is refused. Ten thousand,
    ten million prayers rise in Latin,
    Arabic, Hindi, and Hebrew

    yet their husbands and wives,
    children and sisters, fathers and brothers
    do not survive well if at all
    though in their chest beats the strong sacred heart.

    No prayers are granted, none denied.
    True prayer reaches well beyond the edge of the world.
    It enters head bowed into the arms of the Beloved.


    - Stephen Levine
    (7/17/1937-1/17/2016)
    Last edited by Bella Stolz; 01-19-2016 at 01:41 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  40. TopTop #2753
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    There’s A Beat


    There’s a beat,
    and a sound there,
    you hear it,
    and a tone when we feel it,
    a meter to the planet,
    and such majesty to life.
    There’s the song of our emotions
    in the syncopation of our confusions,
    and the cry of our devotions
    to the heart’s expansive score.
    There’s a melody to take us
    through the storms of our rehearsals,
    through the seasons we must improvise
    a counterpoint to dying.


    Oh holy music made of love and suffering,
    bathe us in your colors.
    Let the silence still us
    to the ache in our fingers and our bones.
    Let us find the harmony,
    the notes that plot a passage,
    that spell a message of reflection and protection,
    if only we will trust and pay attention,
    trust and pay attention
    to the intervals that link us,
    the relations that give meaning
    in our symphony of loss.


    - Tim Hicks
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  41. Gratitude expressed by:

  42. TopTop #2754
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Bedrock
    a message from my father


    may I counsel you
    from this distance
    25 years after cremation
    most of the fire extinguished
    ashes scattered in four directions
    our cup of sorrows aged like wine

    allow me to cradle your head
    and look into your eyes
    allow me to make my amends
    to soothe the hurt i caused
    to nudge you toward a new calm
    here, in the eye of the storm

    now, let’s get down to bedrock
    there is no perspective to defend
    nor angle on which to balance
    nothing to fix or forgive
    your life is enough
    hold it in your lap like a newborn

    never cease to be amazed
    by the shimmer
    of your own soul
    expect nothing
    greet everything
    raise the cup, drink deeply

    - Fran Carbonaro
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  43. TopTop #2755
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Blessed Disillusion

    I thought it would be sudden,
    instead it is gradual, graceful.
    The sky falls leisurely.
    A Chagall sky, it breaks
    apart, slices of cobalt,
    creamy eddies of clouds
    drift down like feathers,
    freed. Little by little,
    pieces liberate, float down like ash
    wafting away from the whole.
    Here, chunks of indigo, shot
    through with streaks of sunset, morning
    silver. Venus shines in my hands.
    Mars burns my eyes.
    The sky lies at my feet
    slices and wedges.
    I pick them up, wonder,
    turn them in my hands,
    Warp and weft without the whole.
    It happens unhurriedly. I always thought
    it would be sudden. The sky would fall.
    Instead it slips gradually from its moorings.
    Overhead measureless emptiness
    wheels and turns.

    - Rebecca del Rio
    Last edited by Bella Stolz; 01-22-2016 at 12:55 PM.
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  44. Gratitude expressed by 6 members:

  45. TopTop #2756
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    MushroomsRising surreptitiously in the nightthese low lives cower in shadegossiping and whispering musty secrets.They conspire with rotting wood;some shake mute bells in cow dung.some come with death in damp pouches.You know them allthese bloodless friends of nightwho make no sound under the knife. - Robert Samarotto
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  46. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

  47. TopTop #2757
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Outside
    The least little sound sets the coyotes walking,
    walking the edge of our comfortable earth.
    We look inward, but all of them
    are looking toward us as they walk the earth.
    We need to let animals loose in our houses,
    the wolf to escape with a pan in his teeth,
    and streams of animals toward the horizon
    racing with something silent in each mouth.
    For all we have taken into our keeping
    and polished with our hands belongs to a truth
    greater than ours, in the animal´s keeping.
    Coyotes are circling around our truth.
    - William Stafford
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  48. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

  49. TopTop #2758
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    For the Family and Friends of a Suicide

    As you huddle around the torn silence,
    Each by this lonely deed exiled
    To a solitary confinement of soul,
    May some glow from what has been lost
    Return like the kindness of candlelight.

    As your eyes strain to sift
    This sudden wall of dark
    And no one can say why
    In such a forsaken, secret way,
    This death was sent for...
    May one of the lovely hours
    Of memory return
    Like a field of ease
    Among these graveled days.

    May the Angel of Wisdom
    Enter this ruin of absence
    And guide your minds
    To receive this bitter chalice
    So that you do not damage yourselves
    By attending only at the hungry altar
    Of regret and anger and guilt.

    May you be given some inkling
    That there could be something else at work
    And that what to you now seems
    Dark, destructive, and forlorn,
    Might be a destiny that looks different
    From inside the eternal script.

    May vision be granted to you
    To see this with the eyes of providence.
    May your loss become a sanctuary
    Where new presence will dwell
    To refine and enrich
    The rest of your life
    With courage and compassion.

    And may your lost loved one
    Enter into the beauty of eternal tranquility,
    In that place where there is no more sorrow
    Or separation or mourning or tears.


    - John O'Donohue
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  50. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  51. TopTop #2759
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Monet Refuses the Operation


    Doctor, you say that there are no haloes
    around the streetlights in Paris
    and what I see is an aberration
    caused by old age, an affliction.
    I tell you it has taken me all my life
    to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
    to soften and blur and finally banish
    the edges you regret I don't see,
    to learn that the line I called the horizon
    does not exist and sky and water,
    so long apart, are the same state of being.
    Fifty-four years before I could see
    Rouen cathedral is built
    of parallel shafts of sun,
    and now you want to restore
    my youthful errors: fixed
    notions of top and bottom,
    the illusion of three-dimensional space,
    wisteria separate
    from the bridge it covers.
    What can I say to convince you
    the Houses of Parliament dissolve
    night after night to become
    the fluid dream of the Thames?
    I will not return to a universe
    of objects that don't know each other,
    as if islands were not the lost children
    of one great continent. The world
    is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
    becomes water, lilies on water,
    above and below water,
    becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
    and white and cerulean lamps,
    small fists passing sunlight
    so quickly to one another
    that it would take long, streaming hair
    inside my brush to catch it.
    To paint the speed of light!
    Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
    burn to mix with air
    and changes our bones, skin, clothes
    to gases. Doctor,
    if only you could see
    how heaven pulls earth into its arms
    and how infinitely the heart expands
    to claim this world, blue vapor without end.


    - Lisel Mueller
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  52. Gratitude expressed by 4 members:

  53. TopTop #2760
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Tree Marriage


    In Chota Nagpur and Bengal
    the betrothed are tied with threads to
    mango trees, they marry the trees
    as well as one another, and
    the two trees marry each other.
    Could we do that some time with oaks
    or beeches? This gossamer we
    hold each other with, this web
    of love and habit is not enough.
    In mistrust of heavier ties,
    I would like tree-siblings for us,
    standing together somewhere, two
    trees married with us, lightly, their
    fingers barely touching in sleep,
    our threads invisible but holding.


    - William Meredith
    | Login or Register (free) to reply publicly or privately   Email

  54. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

Similar Threads

  1. Thank you Larry Robinson
    By JandA in forum WaccoReader
    Replies: 1
    Last Post: 12-11-2009, 02:36 PM
  2. Poem of the day from Larry Robinson
    By Larry Robinson in forum Poetry and Prose
    Replies: 13
    Last Post: 05-20-2008, 09:33 AM
  3. Poems from Larry Robinson
    By Larry Robinson in forum Poetry and Prose
    Replies: 34
    Last Post: 01-07-2007, 08:45 AM
  4. Measure F Precinct Walk with Larry Robinson
    By Portia in forum General Community
    Replies: 0
    Last Post: 10-06-2006, 02:46 PM

Bookmarks