Welcome to our poems for day 24 or the "30 poems in 30 days" fundraiser for the Ithaca Sanctuary Alliance
DAY 24
9:08 AM (0 minutes ago) |  |
LATE SEPTEMBER
A perfect summer arrived
on the first of autumn
with bulging bags
of singsong breezes
and a sweater of
migratory birds.
Maybe the beach
was weary
and sent its weather
west.
Chickadees turned
their volume up,
warbling like faulty
church organs.
Painted trees preened
in the bay window.
Carbonated air
and angling geese
reminded us,
like librarians,
that summer is overdue:
There would be fines.
LOOKING UP AT THE NIGHT SKY . . . DAPHNE SOLA
We used to see a vast number of stars winking light out of darkness
a canopy that moved from east to west covering the earth
our earth
but 'our' has gone
we now know much more
and thank science and its melee
of facts
all marvelous in their own right
for new concepts of stars, nebulae
and our, no, 'the' earth
briefly mourning the loss of
a previous importance
an illusion wrested away
that has left us
in a tenuous stance
within sight of
a provable black hole.
Untitled Susan Eschbach
Five tries to start this
Scratched out words, crossed off phrases
This poem won’t write
(Note from blogger: Poems like this one above from Susan Eschbach that preserve one of the “concentrations” that make a poem a poem, in this case, cadence and musicality, are so instructive for those wanting to get started at poetry writing. The quest for theme and precise wording is a noble challenge, and can provide a creative focus, especially in times of existential dread like the present.)
Sin título IX SANTIAGO RODRIGUEZ
Imagínate que eres un niño o una niña y que te encuentras una piedra y la pateas y luego caminas hacia donde la piedra fue a parar y la vuelves a patear, solo para ver a dónde te lleva.
Y todos los lugares y las cosas que descubras ese día son gracias a esa piedra. Así que ahora es tu amiga. Aunque tal vez si la veas otro día no la reconozcas. No eres la mejor persona distinguiendo piedras.
Y ahora sabes que las piedras pueden ser tus amigas y enseñarte cosas y llevarte a lugares que no conocías.
Y cuando ves una piedra que te gusta le dices "vamos a jugar a la piedra guía".
24 Variants on a Lyric from My Book,
A Lover’s Art p. xvii
Martin Bidney
choriambic rhythm, M and F rhymes
(choriamb = trochee /x + iamb x/)
/x x/
/x x/x
/x x/
/x x/x
“Roses are red,
Violets are purple.
Glowing I’m led
To a purpose euterpal.”
Truth I can view,
Glad to expose it.
Violets aren’t blue;
Everyone knows it.
Seed one bestrews
Purchased from Burpee.
Hail to the Muse,
Perfect Euterpe!
Think of her name:
“Joyful” – the meaning.
Happiness came
Ripe for the gleaning!
How to refuse?
Come, let us hymn her.
Carmine I choose,
Worthy to limn her.
Purple, as well,
Adds to the glamor.
Artful the spell
Heart to enamor!
Gather around,
Servitors loyal,
Her have we found,
Glorious, royal!
Chincoteague DAVID REGENSPAN
It is south, hundreds of miles
Down the anonymous highways:
An island off Virginia
Known for its summer homes. But this is not
Summer, and the island not south enough
To evade the cold. We have come
Passers through only,
Seeking a stopping place
On the way to anywhere with palm trees,
But for now we stand
By a wintry marsh near a seashore
Where a single heron poses among the reeds.
Does it notice us? Does it stand on one leg
To show us that it belongs in this frozen place,
That its balance is more perfect than ours,
That it is satisfied to live between here and there?
Beyond the swamp the ocean murmurs, the air
Above is still as sleep. We stand our ground,
Two-legged, trying to stare the heron down.
Civics Lesson FRAN MARKOVER
