The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
Posts Tagged "poem"
Snoring Dogs
In my dreams I am my own
locomotive, rumbling over
mountain peaks; every hinge
and wheel of me trembles
with this quaking. I am
the earth in its anger…
Elevators, Like God, Make No Promises
by Felix Jung I have no faith in architects, no trustin beams of steel or wood. If steady windscan push a mountain back to dust, how long until a wall of brick comes tumbling down?The ground does not forgive, it never needsto give more than it takes. Acidic rains eat statues year by year, the names on grave-stones smudge away…
Inscriptions on Sundials (Found Poem)
by Felix Jung Passer-by, stop, look, and getthe hell out of here. I have seen nothinglast forever under the sun. Oh time,devourer of things. Oh sun, kingof kings. Only you can prove that Iam useful. Let others tell of stormsand showers, I only markthe bright hours. It is light that makes a shadow.Nobody looks at me when the sunis not…
The Art of Drowning, by Billy Collins (Animated Poem)
As many of you know, I’m a huge fan of Billy Collins. I happened across an animation of one of his poems this morning, and wanted to share it. It’s silly, but the “Related” section is actually longer than my post. If you enjoyed this poem, consider digging through some of the links below. Lots of previously good stuff there….
First Snow (A Little Late)
We got our first snow in Chicago while I was away visiting Washington DC. I’m a little late on this, but here’s an old Flash project that draws on specific keywords relating to snow. First Snow pulls in photos that contain words or phrases like “snow,” “snowflake,” or “first snow.” They’re sorted by time, with preference to photos that are…
Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost Nature’s first green is gold,Her hardest hue to hold.Her early leaf’s a flower;But only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf.So Eden sank to grief,So dawn goes down to day.Nothing gold can stay.
Lanyards
While browsing around on MetaFilter, I happened across a post about lanyards. If you’ve ever gone to summer camp, you likely recognize the name. I was reminded of Billy Collins’ poem, The Lanyard, and was delighted to find a clip of him reading the poem on YouTube (I actually mentioned this poem before, but at the time all that was…
Not Waving But Drowning
by Stevie Smith Nobody heard him, the dead man,But still he lay moaning:I was much further out than you thoughtAnd not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larkingAnd now he’s deadIt must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always(Still the dead one lay moaning)I was…
If My Voice Is Not Reaching You
by Afzal Ahmed Syed (translated by Musharraf Ali Farooqi) If my voice is not reaching youadd to it the echo —echo of ancient epics And to that —a princess And to the princess — your beauty And to your beauty —a lover’s heart And in the lover’s hearta dagger [via Poem-A-Day]
Moving and Packing Boxes: A Haiku
by Felix Jung My stomach, it hurts. Not sure if it’s just hunger or a hernia.
The Body Is the Cause of Love
by Yehuda Amichai The body is the cause of love;after that, the fortress that protects it;after that, love’s prison.But when the body dies, love is set freein wild abundance,like a slot machine that breaks downand with a furious ringing pours out all at onceall the coins ofall the generations of luck.
Bobby Fischer, 1943 – 2008
Found out this morning that Bobby Fischer passed away today in Iceland, at the age of 64. While I was never deep into chess, I played a fair amount as a dabbler… and even went so far as to replay a few of his games. I was always a fan of the legend, more than the man. And as an…
Four Hundredth Mile
I am in no hurry. The only thing in front of me
is home, a few stars, and another night.
I have tried to love what I thought was the world,
but the world moved. I will love the move instead.
At the Maritime Museum
by Yehuda Amichai I saw clay jars covered with barnaclesthat were saved from the ocean bottom,and thought about the sailors of ancient timeswho gave half their lives to sail to those jars,and the other half to bring them back here.They did what they had to do, and drowned near the shore. A woman beside me said, “Aren’t theybeautiful?” and was…