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       #Post#: 178851--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: Paloma Date: April 11, 2023, 10:12 pm
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       Huge admirer of Sassoon.  :)  Thanks for posting this.
       I saw this article and loved the background as well as the image
       of the hand-written poem you posted.
  HTML https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/jun/09/student-discovers-new-siegfried-sassoon-love-poem
       #Post#: 182391--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: LesserGoddess Date: April 29, 2023, 8:11 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Playing with Bees
       RK Fauth
       So the world turned
       its one good eye
       to watch the bees
       take most of metaphor
       with them.
       Swarms—
       in all their airborne
       pointillism—
       shifted on the breeze
       for the last time. Of course,
       the absence of bees
       left behind significant
       holes
       in ecology. Less
       obvious
       were the indelible holes
       in poems, which would come
       
       later:
       Our vast psychic habitat
       shrunk. Nothing was
       like nectar
       for the gods
       Nobody was warned by
       a deep black dahlia, and nobody
       grew like a weed.
       Nobody felt spry as
       a daisy, or blue
       and princely
       as a hyacinth; was lucid as
       a moon flower.            Nobody came home
       and yelled   honey!   up the stairs,
       And nothing in particular
       by any other name would smell as sweet as—
       Consider:
       the verbal dearth
       that is always a main ripple of extinction.
       The lexicon of wilds goes on nixing its descriptions.
       Slimming its index of references
       for what is
       super as a rhubarb, and juicy
       as a peach,
       or sunken as a
       comb and ancient as an alder tree, or
       conifer, or beech, what is royal
       as jelly, dark as a wintering
       hive, toxic as the jessamine vine
       who weeps the way a willow does,
       silently as wax
       burned in the land of milk and
       all the strong words in poems,
       they were once
       smeared on the mandible of a bee.
       #Post#: 190259--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: LesserGoddess Date: June 8, 2023, 3:53 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Why Did It, by William J Harris
       Why did it
       take all
       day
       to get nothing
       accomplished
       Why, I could
       have started
       at noon
       & saved a lot
       of time
       #Post#: 190276--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: MidwestmikkiJ Date: June 8, 2023, 6:21 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [quote author=LesserGoddess link=topic=421.msg190259#msg190259
       date=1686257624]
       Why Did It, by William J Harris
       Why did it
       take all
       day
       to get nothing
       accomplished
       Why, I could
       have started
       at noon
       & saved a lot
       of time
       [/quote]
       I’m laughing because I just told my husband I hadn’t expected to
       be so sloggy this afternoon. We did Pilates this morning which
       shouldn’t have knocked us both out for the day since we do it
       twice a week, but it did.
       #Post#: 201239--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: LesserGoddess Date: August 6, 2023, 2:43 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The cat’s song
       By Marge Piercy
       Mine, says the cat, putting out his paw of darkness.
       My lover, my friend, my slave, my toy, says
       the cat making on your chest his gesture of drawing
       milk from his mother’s forgotten breasts.
       Let us walk in the woods, says the cat.
       I’ll teach you to read the tabloid of scents,
       to fade into shadow, wait like a trap, to hunt.
       Now I lay this plump warm mouse on your mat.
       You feed me, I try to feed you, we are friends,
       says the cat, although I am more equal than you.
       Can you leap twenty times the height of your body?
       Can you run up and down trees? Jump between roofs?
       Let us rub our bodies together and talk of touch.
       My emotions are pure as salt crystals and as hard.
       My lusts glow like my eyes. I sing to you in the mornings
       walking round and round your bed and into your face.
       Come I will teach you to dance as naturally
       as falling asleep and waking and stretching long, long.
       I speak greed with my paws and fear with my whiskers.
       Envy lashes my tail. Love speaks me entire, a word
       of fur. I will teach you to be still as an egg
       and to slip like the ghost of wind through the grass.
       #Post#: 201700--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: Thetis099 Date: August 9, 2023, 12:07 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Fair Weather
       by Dorothy Parker
       This level reach of blue is not my sea;
       Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun,
       Whose quiet ripples meet obediently
       A marked and measured line, one after one.
       This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves
       Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.
       I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;
       They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.
       So let a love beat over me again,
       Loosing its million desperate breakers wide;
       Sudden and terrible to rise and wane;
       Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide
       That casts upon the heart, as it recedes,
       Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.
       #Post#: 217721--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: LesserGoddess Date: November 9, 2023, 8:33 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Sonnet 73, by William Shakespeare
       That time of year thou mayst in me behold
       When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
       Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
       Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
       In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
       As after sunset fadeth in the west,
       Which by and by black night doth take away,
       Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
       In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
       That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
       As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
       Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
       This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
       To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
       #Post#: 248330--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: Lurknomore Date: April 23, 2024, 9:24 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The Peace of Wild Things
       When despair for the world grows in me
 and I wake in the
       night at the least sound
       in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
       I go and lie down where the wood drake
       rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron
       feeds.
 I come into the peace of wild things
       who do not tax their lives with forethought
       of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
       And I feel above me the day-blind stars
       waiting with their light. For a time
       I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
       -Wendell Berry
       #Post#: 267061--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: LesserGoddess Date: August 5, 2024, 9:56 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       What I would tell Eve, by Maegen McAuliffe O'Leary
       Eat the fucking apple.
       They are going to blame you
       regardless.
       You might as well go to the gallows
       with a full belly
       knowing more than God.
       #Post#: 293550--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Poems
       By: LesserGoddess Date: December 25, 2024, 11:48 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The Coming of Good Luck, by Robert Herrick
       So Good-Luck came, and on my roof did light,
       Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night;
       Not all at once, but gently,--as the trees
       Are by the sun-beams, tickled by degrees.
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