2 for 1 Day

Readers,
I have decided because of my hectic schedule that I am going to pare the blog down to a once a week poem, and when I have more free time after I graduate, I will amp it back up. Today, there are going to be 2 poems, one from the awesome Shel Silverstein and one from me (I would appreciate feedback on it). Please enjoy the poems, smile, and have a good week!

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

~

Supernatural (I've tried something a little different)
Lauren Young

He had a voice like clapping
thunder that shoves its fist against a cliff,
whirring and whirring about like
a thick cloud of sparking
flints together. That's when the blackberry
bushes shook, yearning
to be in out of the power of his
voice. You see, he wasn't even
that tall or scary. He was
unassuming and slender as the stem of a cherry.

Twas the Friday before Christmas

Good Morning, all! Usually I work out of my home; I seem to get more things accomplished when I don't have people calling me and asking me questions, but today, I must go into my office and train some new hires. So...not only is the poem early this morning, it is also small and to the point. I am going to introduce you, if you haven't been introduced already, to Jane Kenyon -- one of my absolute favorite poets.

Please enjoy, and have a great weekend.

Merry Christmas!

The Suitor by Jane Kenyon

We lie back to back. Curtains
lift and fall,
like the chest of someone sleeping.
Wind moves the leaves of the box elder;
they show their light undersides,
turning all at once
like a school of fish.
Suddenly I understand that I am happy.
For months this feeling
has been coming closer, stopping
for short visits, like a timid suitor.

~

Let Evening Come by Jane Kenyon

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.

Short Poem Day - 4 Shorties

1. Kindness to Animals by Wendy Cope (from her book Serious Concerns)
* This poem was commissioned by the editor of the Orange Dove of Fiji, an anthology for the benefit of the World Wide Fund for Nature. It was rejected as unsuitable.

If I went vegetarian
And didn't eat lambs for dinner,
I think I'd be a better person
And also thinner.

But the lamb is not endangered
And at least I can truthfully say
I have never, ever eaten a barn owl,
So perhaps I am OK.

~

2. The Dog by Ogden Nash (from his collected works The Best of Ogden Nash)

The truth I do not stretch or shove
When I state the dog is full of love.
I've also proved by actual test,
A wet dog is the lovingest.

~

3. Bean Peace by Drew K. (found at cocoajava.com/java_poetry.html)

A mystery wrapped in brown,
A fragile enigma,
Enveloping the senses,
With the earthy steam
of a bean.

The mind wrapped in warmth,
The essence of a dark roast,
Heating from within,
The senses thrill,
With every lingering
Sniff of the aroma
in the mug.

~

4. A Short Poem by Katerina Stoykova from her book The Air Around the Butterfly
I Breathed on the Glass

and erased your face.
At that instant
the lizard
parted with his tail.


Dear friends, I hope you have enjoyed each short poem, and I hope they have made your day just a little brighter. Please email me back and let me know what you think. God bless!

Poems that Remind me of People

Lately, of course, I've found a lot of poems that the fragments of them remind me of people I know and love. Here are some.

Tadd: "I like to touch your tattoos in complete/ darkness, when I can't see them. I'm sure of/ where they are, know by heart the neat/ lines of lightning pulsing just above" (Kim Addonizio, "First Poem for You," lines 1 - 4).

Daddy: " I was at the 7-11./ I ate a burrito. / I drank a Slurpee" (Campbell McGrath, "Capitalist Poem #5," lines 1-3).

Mommy: "Beautiful child, / how thoughtlessly we enter the world! / how free we are, how bound, put here in love's name/ --death's, too -- to be happy if we can" (Elizabeth Spires, "Easter Sunday 1955, " lines 26 -29).

Heidi: "The pianist's fingers move with deliberation/ as they create the world/ and leave off in silence" (Patricia Fargnoli, "Bach: The Goldberg Variations; Aria and Thirty Variations; Glen Gould, Pianist," lines 13-15).

Courtney: "(he tells me that he is worried Neruda is coming between us)" (Wanda Coleman, "Neruda," line 15).

Mark: "Grown human beings making sacrifices/ return to the universe a favor of love" (Molly Peacock, "A Favor of Love," lines 55-56).

Stephen: "I want the music to be, you know, / a sound that's wide enough/ to ride somewhere, someplace, / where the weather is better/ and you can be with everybody/ all the time -- and the words / would be real. Not that/ life wouldn't be mysterious, / just not that hard to understand, / and maybe I could/ put my guitar down maybe/ get off-stage for a little while/ and think about just talkin' / like a brand new man" (Tim Seibles, "Jimi's Blues," lines 50 -63).