Magical Realist
Valued Senior Member
A Poem Thread
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Magical Realist
Valued Senior Member
"Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry—
I am not there,
I did not die."
Clare Harner
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry—
I am not there,
I did not die."
Clare Harner
THE MISSILE
There is a missile, so I’ve heard,
Which locks on to the smallest bird,
Finely tuned to seek and kill
A tiny chirp or gentle trill.
It’s modern warfare’s answer to
An ancient wisdom tried and true:
When fighting wars you first destroy
All songs of innocence and joy.
There is a missile, so I’ve heard,
Which locks on to the smallest bird,
Finely tuned to seek and kill
A tiny chirp or gentle trill.
It’s modern warfare’s answer to
An ancient wisdom tried and true:
When fighting wars you first destroy
All songs of innocence and joy.
- Leunig.
ThazzarBaal
Registered Senior Member
I drank coffee this morning
It was bitter even with sugar
I had another cup about an hour later
It tasted better than the one before.
I enjoy coffee in the mornings
I enjoy coffee during the day
I enjoy coffee with friends
My first cup was bitter
But I drank most of it anyway.
It was bitter even with sugar
I had another cup about an hour later
It tasted better than the one before.
I enjoy coffee in the mornings
I enjoy coffee during the day
I enjoy coffee with friends
My first cup was bitter
But I drank most of it anyway.
Magical Realist
Valued Senior Member
Magical Realist
Valued Senior Member
Magical Realist
Valued Senior Member
Greed has poisoned men's souls,
has barricaded the world with hate,
has goose-stepped us into misery
and bloodshed.
We have developed speed,
but we have shut ourselves in.
Machinery that gives abundance
has left us in want.
Our knowledge has made us cynical;
our cleverness, hard and unkind.
We think too much and feel too little.
More than machinery,
we need humanity.
More than cleverness,
we need kindness and gentleness.
Without these qualities,
life will be violent and all will be lost.
~ Charlie Chaplin.
has barricaded the world with hate,
has goose-stepped us into misery
and bloodshed.
We have developed speed,
but we have shut ourselves in.
Machinery that gives abundance
has left us in want.
Our knowledge has made us cynical;
our cleverness, hard and unkind.
We think too much and feel too little.
More than machinery,
we need humanity.
More than cleverness,
we need kindness and gentleness.
Without these qualities,
life will be violent and all will be lost.
~ Charlie Chaplin.
The Kingdom of Kevin
Feral lights which hypnotize
Brightened so your brain, it fries
You look up and you see, the skies
Are full of empty, gazing eyes
In The Kingdom of Kevin.
Feral lights which hypnotize
Brightened so your brain, it fries
You look up and you see, the skies
Are full of empty, gazing eyes
In The Kingdom of Kevin.
. . .
What nature has the beast within
Which prompts the idiotic grin?
Where is the fight, the call to arms?
(You raised them once, down on the farm)
Bring your own broom, you can make some room
In The Kingdom of Kevin.
What nature has the beast within
Which prompts the idiotic grin?
Where is the fight, the call to arms?
(You raised them once, down on the farm)
Bring your own broom, you can make some room
In The Kingdom of Kevin.
Preparing for Residential Placement for My Disabled Daughter
by Jennifer Franklin, 2023
My life without you ― I have already
seen it. Today, on the salt marsh.
The red-winged blackbird perched
in the tallest tree, sage green branches
falling over the water. She sat there
for a long time, doing nothing.
As she lifted up to fly, the slender branch
shook from the release of her weight.
When the bird departed, it seemed
the branch would shake forever
in the wind, bobbing up and down.
When it finally stopped moving,
the branch was diminished,
reaching out to the vast sky.
by Jennifer Franklin, 2023
My life without you ― I have already
seen it. Today, on the salt marsh.
The red-winged blackbird perched
in the tallest tree, sage green branches
falling over the water. She sat there
for a long time, doing nothing.
As she lifted up to fly, the slender branch
shook from the release of her weight.
When the bird departed, it seemed
the branch would shake forever
in the wind, bobbing up and down.
When it finally stopped moving,
the branch was diminished,
reaching out to the vast sky.
[via Poets.org↱]
Magical Realist
Valued Senior Member
"If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive." ~Pablo Neruda
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive." ~Pablo Neruda
Seattle
Valued Senior Member
The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind happiness
not always being
so very much fun
if you don't mind a touch of hell
now and then
just when everything is fine
because even in heaven
they don't sing
all the time
The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind some people dying
all the time
or maybe only starving
some of the time
which isn't half bad
if it isn't you
Oh the world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't much mind
a few dead minds
in the higher places
or a bomb or two
now and then
in your upturned faces
or such other improprieties
as our Name Brand society
is prey to
with its men of distinction
and its men of extinction
and its priests
and other patrolmen
and its various segregations
and congressional investigations
and other constipations
that our fool flesh
is heir to
Yes the world is the best place of all
for a lot of such things as
making the fun scene
and making the love scene
and making the sad scene
and singing low songs and having inspirations
and walking around
looking at everything
and smelling flowers
and goosing statues
and even thinking
and kissing people and
making babies and wearing pants
and waving hats and
dancing
and going swimming in rivers
on picnics
in the middle of the summer
and just generally
'living it up'
Yes
but then right in the middle of it
comes the smiling
mortician
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
to be born into
if you don't mind happiness
not always being
so very much fun
if you don't mind a touch of hell
now and then
just when everything is fine
because even in heaven
they don't sing
all the time
The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind some people dying
all the time
or maybe only starving
some of the time
which isn't half bad
if it isn't you
Oh the world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't much mind
a few dead minds
in the higher places
or a bomb or two
now and then
in your upturned faces
or such other improprieties
as our Name Brand society
is prey to
with its men of distinction
and its men of extinction
and its priests
and other patrolmen
and its various segregations
and congressional investigations
and other constipations
that our fool flesh
is heir to
Yes the world is the best place of all
for a lot of such things as
making the fun scene
and making the love scene
and making the sad scene
and singing low songs and having inspirations
and walking around
looking at everything
and smelling flowers
and goosing statues
and even thinking
and kissing people and
making babies and wearing pants
and waving hats and
dancing
and going swimming in rivers
on picnics
in the middle of the summer
and just generally
'living it up'
Yes
but then right in the middle of it
comes the smiling
mortician
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Spring
by Dorothy Keeley Aldis, 1928
Spring comes sharply through
The open window. Feet,
Rushing by on roller skates
Up the electric street,
Make noises like a winter-loosened river.
The little crscent moon is thin and sweet;
Girl's voices lift―
And shiver.
by Dorothy Keeley Aldis, 1928
Spring comes sharply through
The open window. Feet,
Rushing by on roller skates
Up the electric street,
Make noises like a winter-loosened river.
The little crscent moon is thin and sweet;
Girl's voices lift―
And shiver.
[via PoetryFoundation.org↱]
Magical Realist
Valued Senior Member
“Somewhere a black bear
has just risen from sleep and is staring down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness of early spring
I think of her, her four black fists flicking the gravel, her tongue
like a red fire
touching the grass, the cold water.
There is only one question:
how to love this world.
I think of her rising
like a black and leafy ledge
to sharpen her claws against the silence of the trees.
Whatever else
my life is with its poems and its music and its glass cities,
it is also this dazzling darkness coming
down the mountain, breathing and tasting;
all day I think of her - her white teeth, her wordlessness, her perfect love.”
~Mary Oliver
has just risen from sleep and is staring down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness of early spring
I think of her, her four black fists flicking the gravel, her tongue
like a red fire
touching the grass, the cold water.
There is only one question:
how to love this world.
I think of her rising
like a black and leafy ledge
to sharpen her claws against the silence of the trees.
Whatever else
my life is with its poems and its music and its glass cities,
it is also this dazzling darkness coming
down the mountain, breathing and tasting;
all day I think of her - her white teeth, her wordlessness, her perfect love.”
~Mary Oliver