songs/poetry a bit of poetry written by Jana October 9, 2008 Maddie’s pic with accompanying Neruda poem so inspired me yesterday. I’m realizing that I’m hungry for poetry right now. Do any of you have a good verse to share with me? :) Share this:ShareEmailPinterestFacebookTwitterRedditPrint 7 comments 0 Facebook Twitter Google + Pinterest Jana previous post things I like next post heh More Posts Like This One sea-legs for the love… women’s music making a fist depression Mary Monday: "Hum" my soul is in bloom If you are finale occupation 7 comments Anonymous October 10, 2008 - 12:18 am My favorite these days is Mary Oliver’s “Egrets”Egrets Where the path closeddown and over,through the scumbled leaves,fallen branches,through the knotted catbrier,I kept going. FinallyI could notsave my armsfrom thorns; soonthe mosquitoessmelled me, hotand wounded, and camewheeling and whining.And that’s how I cameto the edge of the pond:black and emptyexcept for a spindleof bleached reedsat the far shorewhich, as I looked,wrinkled suddenlyinto three egrets – – –a showerof white fire!Even half-asleep they hadsuch faith in the worldthat had made them – – –tilting through the water,unruffled, sure,by the lawsof their faith not logic,they opened their wingssoftly and steppedover every dark thing. Reply Alisa October 10, 2008 - 1:49 am I love both poems referred to so far. Here’s one I wrote after I attended my first society of friends meeting several weeks ago. I’ve been waiting for enough courage to post it on my blog. Based on John 15:15. A friend of God, a friend of PeopleAll equal light-bearersQuiet communion, inner receptionTo proceed as way opens Reverence, silenceReflect presence and beingA healing powerTo hold them in the light Reply Tess October 10, 2008 - 5:49 pm The Emperor of Ice-Cream Call the roller of big cigars,The muscular one, and bid him whipIn kitchen cups concupiscent curds.Let the wenches dawdle in such dressAs they are used to wear, and let the boysBring flowers in last month’s newspapers.Let be be finale of seem.The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. Take from the dresser of deal.Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheetOn which she embroidered fantails onceAnd spread it so as to cover her face.If her horny feet protrude, they comeTo show how cold she is, and dumb.Let the lamp affix its beam.The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. Wallace Stevens Reply G October 11, 2008 - 6:43 am the last poem (sort of) I memorized: [s]he who learns must sufferand even in [her] sleep, pain that cannot forget fallsdrop by drop upon the heartuntilagainst our wills,comes wisdom to us, by the awful grace of god. -aeschylus (k, probably mixed that up a bit… but wanted to just write it out how I remember it.) Reply G October 11, 2008 - 6:46 am ah… and this one I haven’t memorized yet, just the first few lines… but it tantalizes me: I would rather be ashes than dust!I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.The function of [wo]man is to live, not to exist.I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.I shall use my time.-attributed to jack london Reply jana October 11, 2008 - 2:58 pm Oh, such gorgeous poems–all of them! Thank you! Alisa: your Quaker poem is particularly resonant. I love reading it and letting the familiar phrases of Friends wash over me. Tess: My first class in my first quarter of college we studied The Emperor if Ice Cream. It reminds me of that new-to-college excitement and that teacher who opened my mind to the possibilities of poetry. G: Both amazing sentiments. The second one I think of all the time as I am leaping into something unknown or unfamiliar. I want to _live_ and burn brightly. The risks of doing so seem worth it! anon: Mary Oliver speaks my language (but only far better than I can). Her words have brought me through some of my darkest days… Reply Anonymous October 12, 2008 - 10:43 pm Dear Jana — I thought that you might enjoy thinking of roses past, present and future…-From a NYC gal with only a small balcony on which to tend a garden — a “Starlight” Hydrangea, Boxwood, Ivy and Lavender accounting for all of my beauties The rose fadesand is renewed againby its seedbut where Save in the poemshall it goto suffer no diminutionof its splendor – William Carlos Williams (1883-1963) Reply Leave a Comment Cancel Reply Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.