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Poem for the Day

Posted: 19 January 2017

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

maggie and milly and molly and may
e. e. cummings

 

 

Poem for the Day

Posted: 18 January 2017

Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,...
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.

Sometimes
Sheenagh Pugh

Poem for the Day

Posted: 17 January 2017

Draw a line that is her breast,
Show the way she holds her weight.
Charcoal has a dusty smell...
As it's etched upon the page.
Take the time to see her jaw,
Feel the bite beneath her skin.
Teeth and muscle and bone create
The stillness of her chin....

It isn't how your hand moves
It's how you see,
It isn't the grade of the pencil
It's the line it leaves.
How your eyes trace,
Her body's solid grace,
That is the truth of a woman.

How the hip begets a thigh
Is the finest kind of spell.
Let your eye become your hand,
As you stroke her belly's swell.

It isn't how her heart beats,
It's the way it pulls her skin.
It isn't just the curve of a sigh
That does you in.
The scratchy sound her hair makes,
As you draw that place,
That is the truth of a woman.

The Truth of a Woman
Kristina Olsen

Poem for the Day

Posted: 12 January 2017

Behold the systematic GLUTTON
who eats the fat first off his mutton,
and while the blessing says, "We're grateful," ...
he's asking for a second plateful.

This man is also AVARICIOUS,
finding the smell of dough delicious,
and takes a fierce, uxorious PRIDE
in one possession: his young bride.

His neighbor just across the fence,
a man of strong CONCUPISCENCE,
ENVYING the husband his fair flower,
would buy her favors by the hour.

ANGER inflames the husband's face,
but AVARICE takes the higher place.
He says, "Don't let my ANGER trouble you;
Take her-I'll take your BMW."

The deal is struck; with one car more,
a final sin completes his score.
The sinner says, "I'd shoot them both,
were I not such a slave to SLOTH."

Seven Deadly Sins
Virginia Hamilton Adair

Poem for the Day

Posted: 11 January 2017

Those who love the most,
Do not talk of their love,
Francesca, Guinevere,
Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,
In the fragrant gardens of heaven
Are silent, or speak if at all
Of fragile inconsequent things.
 
And a woman I used to know
Who loved one man from her youth,
Against the strength of the fates
Fighting in somber pride
Never spoke of this thing,
But hearing his name by chance,
A light would pass over her face.
 
Those Who Love
Sara Teasdale

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